Lilly, Alphabetically
by amandajbruce
Summary: A look at Lilly Truscott. One chapter for every letter of the alphabet.
1. A is for all in

A/N: I decided to take my random ideas and my one word challenges and combine them, and this is what I came up with. The chapters will be alphabetical (a to z), so, eventually, there will be 26. I'm trying to stay away from the blatant loliver words like apples or doughnuts. The words chosen are, for the most part, going to be random. And, I have no idea when this will be updated. Probably not on a regular basis, just as a side project. There probably will not be any kind of linear time line either. One chapter might take place in season two, but the next one might take place when Lilly's five, and another might not specify any particular time, I haven't really decided. Also, although it's titled for Lilly, it's probably not going to be Lilly without at least some mention of Oliver. He's too big a part of her life for me to ignore him. And I apologize for this being the longest author's note ever. Oh, also, if anyone wants to suggest specific words... feel free. I can't promise that I'll use them, but we'll see.

Warning: this chapter features a few poker hands, so if you don't understand them, you might want to check them out on wikipedia or something like that. I tried to be vague enough that you could just tell that one person versus another was winning. If I got any details wrong, I apologize. I haven't played a "real" game of poker for a few years now, so my memory's a little rusty.

And, I don't own Hannah Montana. Just thought I'd throw that out there.

A is for all in.

She smirked at the boys sitting around the dining room table. She flipped her cards over and there was a chorus of groans around her. Lilly had now added forty-three dollars and forty-five cents to her "Lilly needs a new skateboard" fund over the last two hours.

"I told you I was good at this game." She pulled another pile of dollar bills and quarters toward herself and began to make sure they were all facing the same direction.

"I thought you were lying," Cooper told her through gritted teeth. He was sitting directly across from her, and he did not look particularly happy. Twelve of the dollars Lilly earned belonged to him.

"I don't like to lie," she told him, still smiling.

"That's only cause you're not good at it," Oliver said from her right. He had only lost about two dollars to the petite blond. Unlike the other boys, he knew Lilly was good at Texas Hold 'Em. She had an uncanny ability to get the cards she needed to complete a straight or a flush without really trying.

"Pssh. My fibbing skills have greatly improved."

"Really? So, you think Becky was a fool for turning me down then, right?" Max asked, across from Oliver. He nodded his head quickly and his curls bounced with every movement.

"Absolutely." Lilly nodded her head in earnest as well, but then started giggling. "Okay, I'm sorry, but did you really think she was going to say yes?"

Max looked momentarily offended, before shaking his head, "No, not really. But see, Oliver's right. You can't lie."

"I can if I have to." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and looked at the boys around the Oken's dining room. Not one of them believed her. "Fine, let's just play another hand." They all groaned.

"What'd I miss dudes?" Todd came out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and sat on Lilly's left.

"Lilly won, again," Cooper told him.

"Cool." Todd gave her a high five. He had lost his poker budget three hands ago, so he was just rooting for Lilly now. He found it highly amusing that she was able to beat the guys who beat him on a regular basis.

"You know Oken, when you said we could play at your house this week, you didn't mention your girlfriend would be cleaning us out," Cooper added.

"Not his girlfriend," Lilly said at the same time Oliver responded, "She's not my girlfriend." Their eyes met, but they both quickly looked away.

Max and Cooper looked at one another before they started laughing. Lilly rolled her eyes. The two of them were convinced she and Oliver were dating and secretly hiding their relationship from the rest of the world.

"I wouldn't be here if you guys had your game at Max's house like normal. I was supposed to be seeing a movie with Oliver and Miley. You steal my friends, I steal your money. It's only fair." She shrugged as Max began dealing the cards.

Max's parents vetoed the idea of a group of teenage boys playing cards in their kitchen for the sixth week in a row, and when Oliver heard he and Cooper discussing the problem, he volunteered his house for the game while his parents were working and his younger brother was spending the night at a friend's house, provided they let him play too. Lilly just happened to show up because she was "bored" and claimed bothering Oliver as her favorite source of entertainment.

"Speaking of Miley, weren't she and Jackson supposed to be here, like, an hour ago?" Oliver leaned back in his chair while he waited for Lilly to answer. Lilly had informed them that she convinced Jackson to bring his little sister when she arrived unannounced in the Oken kitchen.

"Yeah, but she's probably changed her outfit three times by now," Cooper told him before Lilly could say anything.

"Hey! Just cause she's a girl, doesn't mean she would…" Lilly started, then realized who they were talking about. "Okay, maybe she would." Looking down at her own clothes, her favorite pair of jeans and a purple tank top over her bathing suit top, she considered whether she should have changed from her beach outfit into another, more flattering, combination, but decided the boys she was playing cards with would not care one way or another.

"Alright, it's my deal, right?" Max took the cards from Cooper and began to distribute them around the circle. They had been rotating the dealing so no one could be accused of stacking the deck.

Lilly ended up winning with a pair of tens, not really the best of hands, but no one else seemed to be having very much luck. Lilly won the next hand as well, and Cooper was able to get five of his dollars back from Lilly on the third before the back door to the kitchen opened. Oliver scrambled to hide the pile of money in the middle of the table, and Lilly dumped a bag of gummi bears to the surface.

"Why are you guys playing with gummi bears?" Jackson asked as he walked in the room.

"I thought you were my mom," Oliver groaned. Lilly glared at Jackson and began stuffing the candy back in its bag. "She doesn't like to let me gamble with money." He pulled the pile of quarters and dimes out from under the bowl of popcorn.

"Or gamble at all," Lilly mumbled to herself.

"I thought your mom was working a double?" Cooper asked worriedly as Jackson took a seat next to him. Miley followed behind him and pulled up an extra chair to sit by Lilly.

"She is," Lilly informed him as she placed another dime in the middle. It was her bet. "But, sometimes, she likes to surprise Oliver, make sure he doesn't have a girl over. That's why we've got the bag of gummi bears out."

Cooper glared at the dime Lilly had just added to the center and folded. He was more suspicious when she bet low than when she bet high. "She doesn't care that you're here?" he asked her.

"Lilly's always here," Oliver muttered. Max and Cooper laughed again, but Lilly ignored them this time.

Max added his own dime, but Oliver folded as well.

"What do you got Truscott?" Max asked as he flipped his cards.

Lilly shook her head in pity. "Straight. I think I beat your pair of Jacks there." She gleefully pulled the loose change to her side of the table.

"I'm no expert, but it looks like Lilly's winning," Miley said to no one in particular.

"She's been winning all night," Cooper responded grimly. "She's like some sort of little blond card playing machine." Miley and Jackson laughed, but the other boys nodded in agreement.

"I'm out of money," Todd confided in Miley.

"Really?" Miley's eyes shot up in surprise. "I didn't know you could play poker," she said to Lilly.

"My dad taught me and Oliver a few years ago. Obviously, I'm better than Oliver."

Oliver rolled his eyes and suggested they switch to five card draw, which everyone but Lilly agreed to.

"Can I play again if I use the gummi bears?" Todd asked them. He was starting to get bored watching them all play without him.

Cooper and Max shrugged. Why not?

"How 'bout if I play and you can help me? I don't really know how," Miley suggested to him.

Oliver and Lilly looked at one another and tried not to laugh. Miley and Todd playing poker would be like a couple of five year olds just learning how to play Go Fish. Todd was beyond horrible. No poker face whatsoever, so the rest of the table always knew when to fold and when to ride out his bluff.

"Miles, I don't think that's a good idea. Maybe you and Todd should just use the candy," Jackson tried to warn her.

"What?" She quirked an eyebrow at her older brother. "You can play, so it can't be that hard."

"She's got you there," Cooper admitted.

"Hey!"

Lilly just shook her head.

"Anybody got change for a five?" Miley asked.

They all did, but Oliver, Max and Cooper responded in unison: "Ask Lilly."

"Ugh. Fine. I'll sit this one out and show Miley how to play."

"No!" Oliver said loudly. Lilly turned to look at him in surprise. "If you sit out, you sit out, you don't get to turn Miley into a card shark too," he explained. "That's just not fair. Besides, Todd's gonna show her." He smiled.

"Well, that's just not fair, stealing her money like that," Lilly muttered under her breath. At a normal volume, she said, "Fine, I'm going to get something to drink. Play without me."

The legs of the chair scraped back as she got to her feet, and Lilly slowly made her way to the kitchen, her cell phone in one hand and her empty glass in the other. She heard Cooper explaining the rules of the game while Max began to deal. Lilly made her way over to the refrigerator and poured herself a glass of grape juice. Amazingly, the teenage boys in the other room had managed to not completely destroy the contents of the Oken's fridge. There was still plenty of food and it was not even in pieces all over the shelves. Shutting the door, Lilly was greeted by the sight of Oliver's little brother's report card stuck to the fridge with a magnet in the shape of a sea horse. She laughed as she saw his grades were even better than Oliver's.

Lilly leaned against the counter for a minute and studied the photos and drawings stuck to the door. There was a picture of her and Oliver when they "graduated" from their preschool class. She could not believe that picture was still there. It was even in one of those cheesy magnetic frames with dancing zebras around the edges. The two of them were standing next to one another, holding identical certificates in their hands. She was wearing a bright pink dress, one she hated, but her mother had insisted on her wearing for the "big day." It had buttons that looked like fake pearls down the front and lace along the bottom of the skirt. Oliver was in a button down blue shirt that looked like it needed to be ironed and a pair of khaki pants. She remembered that he complained that he could not wear his Batman sneakers for most of the day. Not five minutes after they had taken that picture, she and Oliver raced to the monkey bars and got mud all over their brand new clothes. Needless to say, her mother had not been pleased.

Her phone lit up on the counter, and Lilly flipped it open to see a message from Oliver saying " 4 clubs, go 4 it?" She smiled to herself and sent him a short response of "Yes" before she walked back in to the room. She wondered why the other boys had failed to notice that Oliver was not losing nearly as bad as they were, especially when she was not playing. Each of the four hands she sat out from were ones where Oliver won. Oh, well. They would probably realize he was not that bad of a poker player soon enough. He would have to actually start winning soon if he wanted to stay in the game.

"Hand over yet?" Lilly asked, taking her seat, now between Miley and Oliver, surreptitiously glancing at Max's cards on the way there. He had absolutely nothing. Her eyes met Oliver's and she flipped her hair over her shoulder again, giving him a small smile.

"Final bets," Oliver informed her.

She leaned back in her seat and watched as both Jackson and Cooper folded, while Max added a quarter to the pot. She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing as Oliver added a quarter as well. When he leaned forward, she saw that he had managed to pick up his fifth club.

"Should we stay in?" Miley asked Todd, showing him the cards.

"Well…" He scratched his forehead while everyone else looked on.

Lilly knew what the look on his face meant. At most, Miley had a Jack high. Not worth it.

Todd finally shook his head and Miley threw their hand down.

"You sure you don't want to fold, Oken?" Max needled him.

"I'm sure," Oliver said firmly.

Max was surprised. Oliver had been the first one to fold all night, unless Lilly folded before him. Max's eyebrows furrowed. Maybe since she was out this hand, Oliver thought he had an edge. Max figured he was bluffing and it would just come down to whoever had the highest card. Lilly watched the decision play out on Max's face and kept her phone tucked securely in her lap. Oliver's was sitting open on one of his knees under the table as well.

"Alright," Max told him, "I've got a ten." He laughed as he put his cards down.

"You were bluffing with a ten?" Jackson was disgusted. "Man, I should have stayed in." Cooper nodded his head in agreement.

Oliver triumphantly laid his hand on the table and watched Max's eyes grow to twice their size.

"No way. You haven't had more than a pair all night!" Max said.

"Luck," Oliver laughed, shrugging his shoulders. Lilly laughed as well and Miley narrowed her eyes at her best friends. "Alright, five-fifty," Oliver muttered to himself as he added the quarters to the stack next to him.

"Five-fifty?" Lilly asked incredulously. "With that, you so should have bet more." Everyone looked at her. "What? I would have. That's almost a sure win." She rolled her eyes and threw in her dime for the opening ante. "Oh, I do get to play now, right?" Lilly looked at the boys around the table and Oliver hesitated in his shuffling of the deck.

"Yeah, I haven't got to play you yet," Jackson told her. "I want to see why Coop's so scared of you."

"I'm not scared!" Cooper protested. "It's just not right!"

"Is it because I'm a girl?" Lilly asked him. "Cause that's just wrong."

With Oliver as dealer, Lilly won that hand. Miley, to everyone's surprise won the next, and the following two hands went to Lilly as well, followed by a couple for Oliver.

An hour later, Miley, Todd, Cooper, and Max were all forced to quit, and Jackson was well on his way to being out as well. He was not as good at judging the size of the bets as the others were. Miley watched Oliver shuffle the cards and she eyed the ones in Lilly's hand when she picked them up. Her eyes widened in surprise, and Lilly immediately put in a dollar for the first round of betting.

"Seriously?" Jackson asked her. "I've only got three bucks left."

"Sorry," Lilly shrugged, smiling.

Jackson and Oliver both rolled their eyes, but each of them put in a dollar. Lilly asked for one card, Jackson two, and Oliver took one for himself. Lilly bit her lip and added another two dollars to the middle. Jackson folded his cards in disgust. All eyes were now on Oliver.

"Watch out Oken, I think she's got something good," Max told him.

Oliver's eyes narrowed and he looked at Lilly. He leaned forward in his seat a little bit, making sure to keep his cards tucked toward his body. "No, she's bluffing."

"What makes you so sure?" she asked him, leaning forward as well. "You're the one who said I couldn't lie." Her eyes were locked with his.

"You can't lie when you talk to someone, but you know how to bluff," Oliver informed her as he added his money to the center, then raised the stakes with another two dollars, not taking his eyes from hers.

Cooper's eyes widened when Lilly saw Oliver's additional two dollars and raised with another five of her own.

"Really?" Oliver asked her.

"What? Jackson's only got two dollars left. He's probably not going to play anymore tonight. I'm just gonna keep going." Lilly shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk crossing her face, and waited for Oliver to make a decision.

"Guys, maybe you should just call it a draw," Cooper put in, and Jackson nodded in agreement.

"No way, dudes. This is like, the championship," Todd told them excitedly as he shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth, followed by a few green gummi bears.

Miley glared at him before she turned to Lilly. "Really, it's cool if it's a tie." She knew just how stubborn her friends could be, and she had a feeling neither of them was going to back down. The difference was, where usually they did this in an argument, this time they actually looked like they were enjoying themselves. Lilly's cheeks were a little pink and Oliver appeared to be trying very hard not to smile. Miley's eyes flicked back and forth between them until Oliver spoke.

"Well, if you're just gonna keep raising, we can make this a lot easier." He paused for Lilly to get his meaning, and he started to smile when she bit down on her bottom lip again, a little harder this time. "I'm all in." He pushed his money to the center.

Lilly sighed, tapping one of her fingers on the table. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and tilted her head to the side, watching Oliver for any sign of a bluff.

"Are you sure you want to do that, man? She's got her serious face on," Max loudly whispered. They watched as Lilly crossed her legs under the table, still studying Oliver's face carefully.

Oliver just nodded, staring her down. Lilly looked away first.

"Fine!" Lilly bit out after a tense minute. "I fold." She threw her cards down and Oliver happily pulled the money to himself.

"What?" Max yelped. "I thought you had something!"

"Just a pair," Lilly informed him shortly.

"Of aces," Miley added to her.

"Yeah, but a pair's a pair Miley. Oliver could have easily beat that." Lilly flicked her cards closer to the rest of the deck.

"What about you?" Miley asked him.

"Don't you know it's bad form to ask the winner what he had in his hand once the round is over?" Cooper teased her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't aware we were playing in Vegas," she shot back. Jackson and Max laughed at her.

"I don't think I should say what I had," Oliver said, throwing his cards onto the stack as well.

"That's cause you were bluffing," Lilly informed him, standing up to stretch.

"You don't know that," Oliver responded hotly.

"If you think he was bluffing, why'd you fold?" Jackson asked her, surprised.

"I wasn't sure." Lilly narrowed her eyes in Oliver's direction. "But now, I'm pretty sure." The other boys at the table again looked back and forth from Oliver and Lilly, waiting to see if he would reveal his hand.

"Alright, maybe I couldn't have beat a pair of aces…" Oliver trailed off. He smirked at Lilly and she just shook her head at him, grinning.

"I'll get you. Next game. You just wait."

"Yeah, in your dreams, Lils." Oliver relaxed back in his seat and noticed that everyone was now watching them with interest. He cleared his throat. "Anybody want to play, not for money?"

"Oh, if you want to use the gummi bears, I already ate most of them," Todd told them apologetically. There was a chorus of laughter.

"Is it okay if I borrow a sweatshirt?" Lilly asked Oliver. "I'm getting cold."

"Yeah, but don't take it home with you cause then I'll never get it back," Oliver responded.

She just rolled her eyes, tossed a gummi bear in his direction, and took off up the stairs. Everyone else stared at Oliver when he succesfully dodged the candy and watched her leave.

"What?" he asked when he noticed the eyes of the other people in his dining room were still on him.

Miley shook her head and followed Lilly to the staircase.

When Lilly reached Oliver's room, she grabbed the black zip-up hoodie draped over the back of Oliver's desk chair. She shrugged it on and turned to find Miley staring at her from the doorway to the room.

Miley did not pause to look around the room, though she had never actually been in it. She also did not take the time to consider that Lilly looked just as comfortable in Oliver's room as she did in her own, using the small mirror by his closet to put her hair back in a sleek pony tail. When she was done, Lilly plopped down on Oliver's bed, waiting for Miley to say something.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" Lilly asked her innocently.

"That little stand off down there." Miley looked at her knowingly, one hand on her hip.

"Um, it's called poker Miley."

"Yeah, but it almost looked like you were… flirting… with Oliver."

"What? I was not flirting! That's just, well, it's ridiculous is what that is!" Lilly crossed her arms in front of her chest defensively and felt a knot forming in her stomach.

"Right. The tilted head, the tucking the hair back, the teasing. None of that was flirting," Miley deadpanned.

"Please, I was just trying to figure out if he had anything or not." Lilly stood up from the bed in a huff and headed for the door.

"Whatever you say," Miley called after her. Again, she shook her head and followed her best friend down the staircase.


	2. B is for blankets and bedtime stories

B is for blankets and bedtime stories.

At the tender age of five years, Lilly realized something about herself: she hated baby-sitters. As far as she was concerned, they were all teenage girls who would rather spend time on the phone with their boyfriends as opposed to play a game with her. When she wanted to play Chutes and Ladders, the sitter would pop in a video of "The Little Mermaid." If she wanted to play with a Frisbee, the older girl did not want to mess up her manicure. If she asked to play hide and seek, the person watching her would conveniently overlook her hiding place until Lilly became bored with the game. When this happened for the sixth time, she decided that she would never like another baby-sitter.

On an overcast spring Saturday though, a girl named Tina, or Tanya, or Teri (Lilly stopped keeping track of names two sitters ago), called to cancel. Apparently, she had the flu, and did not want to give it to her favorite five-year-old. Lilly thought this meant she would be spending the day with her parents instead, but no such luck. They had already RSVPed to a friend's wedding months ago, and there were no children allowed.

While her mother wore a deep pink cocktail dress, Lilly was dressed in a white and blue polka dot print play dress. She picked at the hem uncertainly as her mother walked them up the steps to the Oken front door. Heather Truscott had Lilly's backpack in one hand, packed with emergency items, just in case.

"Lilly, stop that. You're going to pull the thread out!" She gently used her empty hand to pull her daughter's fingers away from the skirt.

"But mommy, I don't want to wear a dress!" was the petulant response Lilly gave.

"Well, you're already wearing it. It's too late to go back home and change. Mommy and Daddy are running late." With that, Heather knocked briskly on their neighbor's door.

Lilly's eyes were downcast when Mr. Oken opened it.

"Hey there, little lady. What's the matter? Aren't you excited to spend the afternoon with me and Oliver?" He looked at her expectantly, but Lilly just stuck her lower lip out and stared at the floor.

Mrs. Truscott sighed, saying, "Thanks for doing this. We had a sitter, but she just canceled with no warning."

Mr. Oken held his hands up to stop her. "It's no problem. We love having Lilly over." He took the backpack from Mrs. Truscott and let Lilly know she could go in to the living room where Oliver was building a house out of legos.

Lilly dragged her feet across the carpet, trying to make the walk to the living room as long as possible. Unfortunately, the front door was only about a foot away from the entrance to the room. When she got there, Oliver was seated on the floor, hundreds, maybe thousands, of little plastic blocks in shades of red, yellow, and blue strewn around him. The brown haired boy held the tip of his tongue between his teeth, his concentration solely focused on the stack of interconnected rectangles in front of him. He had what looked like a big square started, but to Lilly, it looked nothing like the house Mr. Oken said Oliver was building.

With a sigh, Lilly plopped down on the carpet, watching Oliver add a few more pieces to his technicolor square. He did not look up, so she sighed again.

"You wanna help me make a house?" he asked her, still not looking up.

"That doesn't look like a house," Lilly told him loudly.

"Not yet. I just started," Oliver informed her, finally taking his eyes off the pile of blue squares he had separated from the rest of the blocks in front of him. His nose scrunched in confusion. "Is that a dress?"

Lilly glared at him when he started giggling. Every time she tried to open her mouth to say something, he would dissolve into laughter all over again, pointing at the dress.

When Mr. Oken came back in the room five minutes later, it took him a while to find out why Lilly was chasing Oliver around the couch or why Oliver was laughing hysterically the entire time.

***

The rest of the afternoon passed without incident. The two friends played tag, hide and seek, helped make lunch, even played a game of Go Fish, but they did find themselves bored with the legos, and Oliver did not finish his house before Mr. Oken decided the two of them needed to take a nap.

"But I'm not tired," Oliver whined.

"But four o'clock is always nap time," Mr. Oken countered.

Lilly was standing at the living room window while the father and son argued. The sky had been growing darker and darker all day. Lilly's eyes followed a bright yellow flyer someone had let fall from their mailbox as the wind carried it down the street.

"Mr. Oken," she called softly, "is it gonna rain?" Just as the words left her mouth, a streak of lightning ignited the sky. She jumped back from the window as the thunder rolled, her eyes wide with fear.

"It's alright, it's just a little rain," Mr. Oken tried to reassure Lilly when water began to pound the windows. Oliver jumped as well when the next clap of thunder sounded, both children taking a step closer to the man in between them. He looked back and forth at the pint sized play mates, then sighed. "Tell you what guys, instead of a regular nap, why don't we all camp out in the living room?"

"Really?" Oliver asked excitedly, completely forgetting about the electricity racing its way through the clouds just outside the house.

"Camp," Lilly asked skeptically, jumping again when the thunder sounded.

"Come on, Lilly, I'll show you," Oliver told her. He grabbed her arm and lead her to the couch where he began removing the cushions and pillows.

For the next ten minutes, Oliver directed Lilly's positioning of the cushions and pillows all over the corner of the living room, adjacent to one arm of the couch. He used the afghan that was resting over the back of said couch to drape over one arm and across to a lamp. Mr. Oken brought a couple of sleeping bags from the hall closet along with another blanket. He draped the bed linen from a chair (anchored with a pillow) across the couch as well. He rolled the sleeping bags out underneath the draped blankets and handed his son a flashlight.

"That's supposed to be a tent?" Lilly asked when they were done.

"Yep, come on," Oliver again grabbed Lilly's arm and pulled her under the structure. His father turned out the lights in the living room just as Oliver turned on the flashlight. He laid flat on his back, and Lilly did the same.

"Now what?" she asked her friend, shuddering when she heard another round of thunder. The afghan did manage to block out the flash of lightning though.

"Dad?" Oliver called. Mr. Oken stuck his head in the make shift entrance by the coffee table, also laying on his back. He held out his hand and Oliver gave him the flashlight.

Balancing the flashlight on the floor next to him, Mr. Oken brought his hand up and began reciting the story of "Little Red Riding Hood," complete with shadow puppet illustrations. Lilly giggled every time he tried to make a wolf because she thought it looked like a bunny. Several more stories followed, including "The Boy Who Cried Wolf," which also made Lilly laugh because Mr. Oken's sheep looked like bunnies too. When he made his way through "The Frog Prince," trying to create a hopping shadow puppet, Oliver complained that none of these stories had any cool superheroes. Mr. Oken turned the story of "Rapunzel" into one featuring Batman, and Oliver was delighted. Half way through the Spider Man version of "Sleeping Beauty," Lilly and Oliver were both sound asleep, which is precisely how Heather Truscott found them when she came to pick Lilly up an hour later.

Lilly decided baby-sitters were not all bad. You just had to have the right one.

More than two decades later when Lilly and her husband were supposed to be going to a party of some sort, leaving their kids at home with a sitter, she noticed that the sky was getting dark early in the day and neither of the kids seemed very happy at the prospect. When the first bolt of lightning zigzagged outside the window, she called the sitter herself, canceling the job, and broke out the blankets and sleeping bags from her own hall closet. The living room became a camp ground, complete with sugar free chocolate and marshmallows sandwiched between graham crackers. When after two stories of princesses and castles, her son complained that there were no cool superheroes, she smiled to herself and let her husband take over the storytelling. He told their children about Batman and Luke Skywalker, but she let it go. His shadow puppets were better than hers anyway.


	3. C is for cool lists

C is for cool lists.

"Ugh. I can't believe them." Lilly angrily tossed the plastic spoon down on to her tray.

"I know! There are only three hundred people in our grade!" A packet of pages lay open on the table between Oliver and Lilly. Their eyes were on the final four spots on the last page of the list.

297 Miley Stewart

298 Lilly Truscott

299 Nose Whistle Wally

300 Dandruff Danny

"That's not what I meant," Lilly told Oliver.

He pushed his long sleeves up to his elbows, waiting for her to go on, and when she did not, he turned to Miley, across from him at the table. "What is she talking about?"

Miley rolled her eyes and responded, "what makes them so special? Why do they get to decide the order on the list?"

"Uh, cause they're the popular girls." Oliver looked at his two friends as if they were crazy.

Lilly's eyes narrowed. "No, what they are is evil."

"I don't understand why I'm 297. I mean, I've only been here a year and I've never done anything to them." Miley pulled the packet over to her side of the table.

"It's cause your friends with Lilly," Oliver whispered to her.

"Hey!" Lilly protested.

"What? You know it's true."

"Really? Then how come you're," Miley paused while she flicked back a few pages, "184? You're Lilly's best friend first."

"Cause I'm cute?" Oliver asked her, shrugging his shoulders.

"I don't think that's it." Lilly leaned back in her chair and looked at him. "Nope. Can't be. You're a bigger dork than I am. Even if, and that's a big if, Amber and Ashley thought you were," Lilly shuddered a little, "cute, there is no way they would put you that high on the list. It's almost half way."

"I don't talk back when they call me a loser," Oliver said thoughtfully.

"You should," Lilly shot back.

"Maybe it's cause I never threw a dodge ball at Amber's face in gym and I've never beat Ashley out for best hair," Oliver pointed out.

"Yeah, last year was a pretty good year." Lilly nodded her head in satisfaction. Miley nodded in agreement.

***

In the sixth grade, dodge ball was not just a game played on rainy days in gym, it was a game of survival. The popular girls always found ways to stay at the back of the pack, hiding behind the more athletic kids, discussing their nail polish, or their dislike of their gym uniforms. The athletic kids always picked on the least coordinated first, getting them out of the way so they could play a real game. The division of the team really depended on the mood of the coaches. Sometimes they played boys against girls. Other times, the first half of the alphabet against the second half. On rare occasions, they got to pick teams.

On this particular Wednesday, it was not actually raining, but the track was flooded from a heavy down pour the night before. This meant the planned timed mile run had to be postponed until a later date. Lilly was kind of grateful. She always got bored running around in circles. Besides, since she and Miley were in the same gym class, that meant she walked more than she ran. Lilly could usually only get Miley to run for short sections of the track before she would want to walk. At least they always beat Amber and Ashley though.

"Okay we're going to do girls against boys today! Split up!"

Several of the girls, Lilly included, groaned. Girls against boys never worked out. Lilly, Joanie, a couple of the girls on the softball team, and a handful of other girls were the only ones who ever actually played. The rest of the girls were too busy trying to get on Amber and Ashley's good side or just hiding at the back, not wanting to get pelted by a red playround ball.

Lilly watched as the guy's coach started counting heads. There were more girls than boys.

"I need a few girls to volunteer…"

Before he could finish what he was going to say, Lilly's hand shot into the air. "We'll play on the guy's team!" She dragged Miley up to the coach.

"Okay." He raised his eyes briefly, not expecting the sudden exclamation from her. "I need one more girl."

No one volunteered. Normally, Joanie would have been clamoring to get a chance to play with the boys, but not if it meant being on the same team as Lilly. The two of them never played on the same team if they had a choice. And since Joanie was on their side, none of the really athletic girls wanted to switch either.

To Lilly's surprise, it was Becca Weller who finally stepped forward and said she would play. Lilly could not remember ever seeing Becca even pick up a ball, but she was pretty quick on her feet. Lilly thought she might have been in ballet or something for a while.

As the girls walked over to the boys side of the court, they heard Amber say, "of course Truscott wanted to play for the boys team. She couldn't be a girl if she tried." Several giggles followed her statement and Lilly turned around to respond, but it was Becca who grabbed her arm and led her over to the group of boys.

"You guys can stay at the back," a boy named Nick informed Becca and Miley as soon as they reached the middle of the group.

"Fine with me," Miley remarked and she quickly walked to the back.

"But we," Lilly glanced at Becca who had incredibly wide eyes, "well, I want to play."

"You're our reserve player. Stay near the back," Nick told her, steering her and Becca over to where Miley was standing.

Lilly rolled her eyes and Becca crossed her arms. They looked at one another and shook their heads. Miley was just glad to have someone to talk to.

"Reserve player. Who does he think he is?' Lilly muttered to herself.

When the coach blew the whistle, a group of boys raced for the balls in the center of the court. Joanie and softball girl number one both managed to get a ball as well. Hands on her hips, Lilly neatly sidestepped a ball that rolled in her direction. She watched three girls get hit and have to sit out. A boy at the front was out, courtesy of Joanie, and then two more girls were out.

Becca stepped over a another ball that bounced in their direction and Oliver jogged over to them to pick it up.

"Why aren't you playing?" Oliver asked Lilly, holding the ball in one hand.

"Nick said I'm a reserve player," Lilly said shortly, watching as Todd was hit in the leg with a hard throw from one of the softball girls. He and a boy with glasses were both out.

"Since when do you listen to Nick?" Oliver asked, holding the ball out to her.

"Well, I was keeping Miley company…" Lilly said looking at the ball out of the corner of her eye. Joanie has already managed to get two more boys out. Why was Joanie never made fun of for playing as hard as the boys? It was unfair.

"If you don't take the ball, I will." Becca's voice surprised all of them. Miley jumped out of the way of an incoming ball.

"I didn't think you liked dodge ball," Lilly said to her.

"I don't. But Ashley cheated off my math test yesterday and I'd really like to hit her." Becca's arms were still crossed and she watched as two members of the softball team were able to come back in to the game and two more boys were out.

Oliver quickly let Becca take the ball. She walked up to the line and let it fly. It missed Ashley by about a foot.

"Man, I really thought she was gonna hit her," Lilly whined.

When Becca started to walk back to them, a ball hit her in the arm, and she was out. Miley took one to the side and hobbled over to sit by Becca.

"You know, they're doing surprisingly well today," Nick said as he ran past Lilly and Oliver to get a ball.

Oliver nodded his head and moved to catch a ball heading straight for him and Lilly. Softball girl number two was out again, and Oliver called for Todd to come back in.

"So Truscott, you gonna play or what?" Nick tossed a ball in her direction, and Lilly appeared thoughtful.

"I don't know. Am I allowed to?" she asked him as she caught it.

"Funny." Nick left her to lob the red playground ball at Joanie, but he just missed her.

While Joanie was distracted, Lilly hurled the ball in her direction. Unfortunately, Joanie ducked to pick up a stray ball just as Lilly's headed for her. The ball collided with Amber's face instead.

Amber's shriek caused time to come to a sort of standstill. Everyone was looking at Amber, until she ran for the nearest bathroom, holding one hand to her nose. Ashley hurried after her, calling over her shoulder, "You'll pay for that, Lilly"

"Sorry," Lilly called back weakly.

"Truscott, you're out. You're not supposed to hit anyone in the head, remember?" the coach yelled in her direction.

"It was an accident," Lilly protested.

He just pointed to where the rest of the out players were seated.

Two weeks after that, once Amber's bruising had finally gone down, the yearbook superlatives for each grade were announced. It was a surprise to no one that Todd got class clown and Amber best dressed. The "cutest couple" broke up the day before the winners were announced. That superlative was cursed. It happened every year. Certain things seemed to be obvious. What a lot of people really wanted to know was just who was going to win best hair. The main competition seemed to be between Ashley and Becca, and that was probably the only reason Becca was not a member of the popular group. It was a bit of a shock then that neither of them won.

"Oh my gosh, Lilly, this is so cool! I can't believe you got best hair!" Miley gushed outside their lockers after announcements were made. Ashley just glared at her as she walked by.

"I'm just glad Ashley didn't win," Lilly responded. "But she and Amber are mean enough already. I don't even know who would vote for me."

"Well, I voted for you," Miley said. "I didn't really know who else to vote for though since Becca said she didn't even want to win." She shrugged.

"I voted for you too," came the voice of Becca Weller from behind them.

"Really?" Lilly was surprised when she turned around. "Cause I voted for you." The two of them laughed.

"I didn't want Ashley to win either." Becca shrugged her shoulders much as Miley had done earlier. "Plus I liked that thing you did the other day with all of the little braids. It looked really cool."

"Thanks." Lilly smiled as Becca walked away. "She's pretty nice," was what she said to Miley.

***

Back in the cafeteria several months later, Lilly was still trying to figure out just what got her and Miley almost at the bottom of the list.

"Where's Becca on the list?" Lilly asked Miley. "Ashley hates her almost as much as she hates me cause she never lets her or Amber cheat off of her."

Miley flicked through the pages for a minute trying to find her. "Seventy-Five? She must have done somethin' to get on their good side."

Lilly sighed and her eyes narrowed at Miley's next words.

"Joanie is sixty? How did she get above Becca? Becca is so much cooler!"

"She hates Lilly," Oliver said quickly, then looked back down at his food when Lilly glared at him.

"Somehow I don't think the cool list revolves around who hates me," she snapped at him.

"Actually, he has a point. The only person who you're friends with that made the top twenty is that kid Todd you're always laughin' at," Miley said flatly. "And that's probably just cause he's funny."

"It's just not fair," Lilly moaned.

Life would get even more unfair for Lilly the next year when both Becca and Oliver moved up on the cool list, but she and Miley would tie for dead last with Dandruff Danny. Two weeks of being ignored by so many of the people she had considered friends reconciled her to the fact that as long as Amber and Ashley hated her, she would never break 250 on the cool list, maybe not even 275, but she found she no longer cared… much.

A/N: Just in case it was a little confusing, dodge ball and best hair occur in sixth grade, while them ending up near the bottom of the cool list would be seventh grade. I still haven't come up with a reason for Oliver to be so far ahead of them on the list. I really want to know too. Haha. Any ideas out there?


	4. D is for designated driver

A/N: This chapter is responsible for upping the rating. I kind of thought the K would last longer, but no, this was the perfect letter to up it. Originally, my random word for D, suggested by a friend, was drunk. I decided that D is for drunk just didn't have a nice ring to it. So, same idea, different focus, if that makes sense. And no, Lilly is not the one getting drunk… Also, I don't have any words picked out for E or G yet, so if anyone wants to give suggestions, I might take them instead of just opening the dictionary and pointing.

D is for designated driver.

When Miley took Lilly to one of her first "real" high school parties, the two of them made a deal in the car ride there. They were going to have fun, but there were conditions. Neither of them were going to take drinks that they did not make themselves. They were going to stick together. If one of them went to the bathroom, they both went to the bathroom. If one of them wanted to leave, they would leave. There would be no splitting up and no going crazy. This was a girls' night. There would be no picking up or hooking up of any kind.

These were the rules set in the car while Miley was navigating traffic and Lilly was busy putting lotion on her legs. She put one bare foot with bright green painted nails down on Miley's Hello Kitty floor mat, waiting to see if Miley had any more rules to add.

"Okay, one question," Miley said as she scoped the street for a parking space.

"Just one?" Lilly teased.

"What if we have a problem?"

"What kind of problem?"

"I don't know… we both get food poisoning or something."

"Food poisoning?" Lilly raised her eyebrows. "Miley, what do you plan on eating?" She awkwardly began taking off the zip up sweatshirt she had been wearing, almost getting one of the sleeves knotted around the seatbelt before she tossed it onto the back seat. She had on a blue and green halter top underneath. It was fitted and made of some sort of shiny fabric that was likely a weird blend of other fabrics she did not want to know about. Miley had given it to her for her last birthday and Lilly had few occasions to wear it.

"It was just an example," the brunette said as she pulled her car into one of the lots that offered all night parking for a small fee.

"I don't know… drive to a hospital to get our stomachs pumped?" Lilly asked incredulously. Miley rolled her eyes and took a slip from the parking attendant. Lilly grabbed Miley's makeup case from the back seat and began hunting for eyeliner.

"Okay, maybe that wasn't the best example," Miley conceded, pulling into a parking space on the second level.

Lilly shrugged and analyzed her eyeliner choices, black or purple. She never even knew Miley had purple eyeliner. She decided to go for the black. Once Miley put the car in park, Lilly turned on the overhead light and got to work. Miley unbuckled her seat belt and straightened out her pink shirt dress. The neckline had become crooked from the way the seat belt lay across it.

"We could call Jackson, I guess… although I don't know what kind of trouble he could get us out of." Lilly said this while smudging the eyeliner at the corners of her eyes.

"Hmm…." Miley touched up her lipstick in the mirror. "He'd just tell my dad."

"Oliver?" Lilly asked. "But we told him it was a girls' night, so that means we try extra hard to not get in any trouble." Lilly put the cap back on and turned to look at her best friend.

"Yeah, of course," Miley brushed off Lilly's tone. "I just wanted to know who to call, you know, just in case."

"Miley…" Lilly groaned. She knew it was not her friend's fault, but trouble seemed to be attracted to them like a magnet whenever they tried to make any kind of plans these days.

"It's just a back up plan, okay? We've never gone to a party where there are no parents in the house. Not one where there's going to be a bar anyway."

"Which is why we are making our own drinks," Lilly reminded her.

"Are we even sure that Oliver's not going to this party? It's supposed to be huge, and he never misses a chance to hang out with hot girls." Miley got her mascara from Lilly and added another coat to her already long lashes.

"I doubt he's going. He's been avoiding Sophie like the plague since he and Joanie broke up."

"I know! I don't get him. Sophie's cute and nice. Just cause her feet are bigger than a size six." Miley fluffed her hair in the rear view mirror and met Lilly's eyes. "Ready?"

"Yeah, just gotta get my sandals from your back seat." Lilly climbed out of the car and smoothed down her denim mini skirt. She opened the back passenger door, tossing her flip flops inside and grabbing a pair of strappier sandals, size six. She quickly checked to make sure her cell phone was in her back pocket before she shut the door. Just in case, she told herself. "You do realize we're going to have to walk three blocks to get to Sophie's house from here, right?" Lilly asked Miley as they found their way to a staircase.

"If you weren't so busy making yourself party ready, you would have seen that there was no parking anywhere else," Miley told her.

"Hey, I had to get ready in the'car. I didn't tell my mom I was going to a party. She would have asked too many questions!" Lilly hurried down the stone steps after Miley, her blond curls bouncing behind her. Doing her hair had been the one thing she had made sure to do before Miley picked her up.

"Yeah, I told Daddy we were going to a movie," Miley called over her shoulder.

"Oh, what are we seeing? Just so I know what to say when he asks."

"That new teen chick flick with the cute guy."

"So we just tell him it has a happy ending and the guy was so cute, and we'll never have to talk about it again," Lilly laughingly remarked.

"Exactly." Miley held the door at the bottom of the staircase open and the girls walked arm in arm down the street to Sophie's parent's beach house.

An hour later, the two of them were watching a spirited match of beer pong between a couple of seniors they did not know and Todd and Nick on the pool deck behind Sophie's house. Nick was laughing hysterically while Todd tried to throw the ping pong ball at one of the other boys heads instead of in their cups.

"Wow." Lilly did not know what to think anymore. She had thought Todd sober was strange. "Todd," she called, "maybe you should quit while you're really far behind. I think it's obvious that you guys are losing."

"Oh, dude, I'm not drinking. I'm driving home. Nick's doing all the drinking." Todd nodded his head emphatically at the two girls.

Miley pulled Lilly closer to her and whispered in her ear, "remember how when I first met him I asked if he was on drugs and you said no? Are you sure?"

Lilly laughed, but then looked over at Todd who was now trying to catch the ping pong ball one of the seniors threw at his side of the table with his mouth. "We-ell, I don't know. He is a little… crazy. Honestly, I didn't know he even managed to get his license."

"You girls want to play winner?" The taller of the seniors waggled his eyebrows at the two girls. Lilly could see smudges of some sort of unidentifiable substance on the bottom of his imitation Lakers jersey.

"No thanks," Lilly told him, before grabbing Miley's arm to drag her to a different area of the house.

They walked into the kitchen and found a group of girls trying to make daiquiris of some sort with vodka, kiwis, a bottle of strawberry drink mix, ice cubes, and a bunch of canned mixed fruit.

"Is it weird that I think that looks like it would taste good?" Miley asked when the girl at the blender added a packet of blue Kool-aid to the mixture.

"No, I was just thinking the same thing," Lilly responded. "But we're not drinking," she added quickly.

"One drink couldn't hurt, right? Just to see? High school is all about experiencing new things." Miley gave Lilly the puppy dog face she had become so well known for amongst her family members.

Lilly bit her lip and tried to avoid the look on Miley's face. "We split one," she finally said pointing a finger at Miley to let her know that was the only option.

"Yes!" Miley walked over to the counter and asked if she could have one of whatever they were making. A tall blond girl happily handed her a cup and poured some of the contents of the blender into it. Miley cautiously took a sip, shrugged, then handed the cup to Lilly.

"It just tastes like juice," Lilly told her after taking a sip herself. She handed the cup back to Miley and they wandered into the living room.

Only five minutes later, they were back on the pool deck. The atmosphere in the living room was not exactly friendly to a couple of single girls who were not heavily drinking. There were couples sprawled all over the couches and the music was blaring to near deafening levels. All of the standing room on the carpet was taken up by people dancing, and not necessarily to the music that was practically peeling paint off the walls. Miley and Lilly unanimously decided that watching the drunken games of beer pong and quarters would be much more entertaining than having sketchy guys try to get them to dance in a dark room.

Todd was sitting on the diving board having an animated conversation with Nick, who was lounging on the edge of the pool, even though Sophie had explicitly stated this was not a pool party. Lilly immediately made a beeline for the two of them, deciding to avoid the beer pong match going on where Lakers Jersey was apparently playing another round. She was sure they were not Miley's idea of great party people, but Lilly figured they were a better option than most of the other people they had encountered tonight.

"Man, I'm telling you, I totally could make it over the water from one end of the pool to the other on a skateboard. It would be an awesome jump," Todd was telling Nick as they walked up.

"What?" Lilly asked. "You could not!" Todd helped her to carefully take a seat on the diving board as well, her feet dangling over the side, just missing the top of the water. Lilly carefully crossed her ankles when she saw Nick eying her legs. Maybe the mini skirt had not been the best idea.

"Yeah, I could," Todd shot back. "I just got to get enough speed going."

"On what? The grass? The deck isn't that big!" Lilly raised her eyebrows.

Nick began giggling to himself. "You said grass," he gasped out.

"Why is that funny?" Todd asked Lilly. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, look, I see Sophie. I'm gonna go say hi!" Miley was off to the other side of the backyard before Lilly could remind her that they were not supposed to separate. Miley also took the cup of the vodka infused smoothie they were supposed to be sharing.

Another forty minutes was all it took. Lilly got caught up in a debate with Todd about the aerodynamics of the skateboard, finding that she could barely keep up with his arguments. Nick stopped paying attention five minutes in and was busy sending drunken text messages to ex girlfriends. Lilly finally gave up when Todd suggested that rubbing jelly on a skateboard would make it glide better and wobbled to her feet, trying her best to not let Nick see up her skirt. When she made it over to the picnic table where she had last seen Miley wander off too, there was a game of landmines going on, and Miley was playing.

Lilly shook her head when Miley giggled at something Gabe Lomatti said to her, then spun her quarter on the surface of the table. When it hit a plastic beer bottle in the middle, she took a sip from the can clutched in her hand.

"Miley, what are you doing?" Lilly gasped when she saw her friend take another drink from the can.

"I'm playing a game with Babe. I don't think I'm very good." She hiccupped after she talked and Lilly groaned.

"How much have you had to drink?" Lilly hands were on her hips now.

"Just this." Miley shook the can in Lilly's face and laughed a little. Lilly was pretty sure she had more than just the one drink and the one they were supposed to be sharing though. Miley's eyes were glassy and unfocused. Lilly did not know much about blood alcohol levels, but she thought it would take a little more than that to get her drunk.

"Who are you? Her chaperone?" One of the other girls at the table asked, giggling.

Lilly ignored her. "Miley, you're supposed to drive us home! We can't go back to your house with you like this!"

"Psssh. I'll be fine!" Miley waved her off and turned her attention back to the game.

For another fifteen minutes, Lilly unsuccessfully tried to get Miley to stop playing. When she heard Miley protest that she and "Babe" were having too much fun, she ran her hands through her hair in frustration and walked away to make a phone call.

It was almost midnight and she knew he was probably still up, but she still felt guilty when she held the first button down on her speed dial. She really hoped she did not wake up his mom. She did not want Oliver to have to explain to her just why Lilly was calling him in the middle of the night on a Saturday when she was supposed to be having a girls' night in with Miley.

"Hey Lils, what's up?"

"Um, I may need your help." Lilly leaned forward against the railing around the deck and watched Miley spin another quarter on the table set up in the grass.

"With what? You want to know if pink or purple eye shadow looks better? Aren't you and Miley having a girls' night?" She could practically hear his eyes rolling.

"Well… we kind of went to a party…" Lilly trailed off.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked quickly.

"Miley's an idiot is what's wrong! If I have to hear her call Gabe 'babe' one more time, I might hit her myself!" Lilly growled. She began recounting the events of the night, but was interrupted by a tap on her shoulder. She turned her head to see none other than Mr. Lakers Jersey behind her. "What?" she asked rudely.

"I didn't say anything," Oliver answered from the phone.

"Hang on," she told him. "What do you want?" she asked the boy who looked like he was about to fall over.

"You looked bored, and I need a new partner," he slurred. He tottered unsteadily on his feet, almost like his sneakers were too heavy.

"I don't think you need to play anymore. I think you should go sleep it off."

"You wanna come with me?" Lakers Jersey asked. He leaned towards her and Lilly took a few steps away. Lilly pressed her phone into her shoulder, really hoping Oliver was not hearing this conversation.

"Touch me and you'll never have kids," she snapped at him. She watched him shuffle away before she began talking to Oliver again. "So, Miley's supposed to be driving us back to her house after the fake movie, but she clearly can't drive."

Lilly heard a car start on the other end of the phone.

"And you can't drive because?" he asked her through gritted teeth. She took the gritted teeth to mean he had heard the conversation.

"One, no license, you doughnut. I don't want to risk it. Two, do you really think Miley's going to give me her keys? I can't even get her to leave the table." Lilly angrily picked at a splinter in the railing. "The only person I've seen all night who hasn't been drinking is Todd, and I don't want him driving me anywhere."

"What if I'm busy?"

"At midnight? You got a hot date you didn't tell me about?" Lilly's eyes narrowed. She should have known Oliver would make her work for this.

"I don't tell you everything."

She rolled her eyes. Yes, he did. "Hey, you could've been having a good time with Sophie right now. She's a lot less nervous around guys when she's got a few drinks in her." Lilly watched Sophie set up a new round of beer pong with a couple of other girls. Apparently Lakers Jersey had given up on the game.

Oliver sighed and said, "You're lucky I like saving the day."

"I knew you couldn't resist a damsel in distress," she joked.

"I'll be there soon. Try to get Miley to drink some water or something. I don't want her puking in my dad's car."

"Got it."

Lilly hung up the phone and went back to the kitchen. It was a disaster. There were open pizza boxes, half eaten bags of chips, beer cans, assorted cups and beverages, even a jar of pickles was open on the counter. She shook her head and searched for a clean cup. Filling a plastic cup with water from the kitchen faucet, she made her way out to the game on the grass.

The table was practically covered with cans and bottles now. Gabe spun his coin and expertly avoided hitting anything on the table. Lilly eyed him suspiciously. He was way too good at that game.

"Here, Miley. I brought you something else to drink," Lilly told her friend, pushing the red cup under her nose.

"Thanks!" Miley eagerly grabbed it from her hands, almost dropping it in her lap. When she took her turn and had to drink, Miley wrinkled her nose a little in confusion. "This doesn't taste like anything."

"Yeah… it's, uh… special drink," Lilly said helplessly. She never had been a good liar. Miley just shrugged and took another sip.

Lilly waited for a few more people to take their turns before trying to coax Miley away from the table.

"Hey, Miley, I almost forgot, I talked to Oliver! He's going to come to the party! Isn't that great?" Lilly laid on the fake enthusiasm.

"But he doesn't like soapy fooze… Sophie's shoes… that's really hard to say."

"Yeah it is," Lilly agreed, rolling her eyes. "He wants us to meet him out front, okay?" She tapped one of her shoes impatiently, waiting for Miley to understand.

"Okay!" Miley did not get up though, just spun her quarter and downed the rest of her water.

"Now," Lilly added, her fingernails digging into her own palms. She never thought Miley could be quite this frustrating.

"Oh… okay. Bye guys! We're going to see our best friend."

Miley gave little giggle as she struggled to get to her feet and Lilly tried to pull her along the side of the house and into the front yard. Going through the house seemed like it had death trap written all over it the way Miley was teetering on her heels. At one point, one of Miley's shoes became lodged between two of the concrete triangles making up the path and she angrily yanked her foot out of the shoe, complaining about the ground attacking her. Lilly just rolled her eyes again and got her to take off the other shoe so she would be able to at least attempt to walk.

When Oliver's car pulled up in front of the house, Miley was laying on the grass, picking strands of it up and tossing it into the air, singing "Best Of Both Worlds" very off key. Lilly just stood there with her arms folded in front of her, and Oliver had to do a double take.

"I'm going to kill her," Lilly told him as he got out of the car. Oliver struggled not to laugh. The look on Lilly's face told him this was no laughing matter, but Miley looked ridiculous. Her dress was wrinkled, there were bits of grass in her hair, and her feet were filthy.

The two of them struggled to help get Miley into the back seat without slamming her head into the car, and she promptly passed out.

"So, where am I taking you?" Oliver asked when the two of them were standing outside the car alone. Lilly picked up Miley's shoes from the driveway and he quickly looked away when she turned back around.

"I don't know! I'm supposed to be sleeping at Miley's, but she can't go home like that! Her dad'll go crazy!" Lilly threw her arms up in the air in frustration. "I just want to get out of here." Her shoulders slumped.

"Where are you going?" Came a familiar voice from behind her. "The party's just getting good."

Lilly's eyes flashed in annoyance before she spun around to face the Lakers jersey boy again. Oliver felt his jaw clench at the way the guy was trying to look at his best friend. Too bad he could barely keep his eyes open.

"What do you want?" she yelled.

A few people who had been in front of the house turned to look and Oliver's eyes widened. The senior did not reply, just stood there, his eyes unfocused.

"Ugh. Go take a cold shower or something!" Lilly hissed at him before bolting for Oliver's car. She slammed the door behind her and Oliver winced.

"You should just go back inside," Oliver mock whispered. "She's not in a very good mood." He too got in the car, not waiting for a response.

"There was a stop sign there," Lilly informed Oliver shortly after they had been driving for a few minutes.

He groaned. "Are you gonna be like this the entire way back to my house?"

"Your house? We can't take Miley to your house! Your mom'll have to arrest her!"

"She's at work. There's a big case and she thinks they're close to breaking it."

"Oh." Lilly glanced over at him, then at the speedometer. "You need to slow down. What if we get pulled over for speeding with the super girl back there?"

"I'm not going to get pulled over."

"You could!" One of her feet was tapping out a rhythm on the floor. She crossed her arms again and gave a little huff of annoyance.

"Lilly, you really need to get your license." Oliver's grip on the steering wheel tightened, but his foot eased off the gas, just a little. He knew she was just taking out her anger on him because she couldn't yell at Miley yet, but the back seat driving was getting on his nerves.

"So I can be the one driving the pop princess around? No thanks!" She leaned back in the seat a little bit and sighed. "Sorry."

"I know."

The rest of the ride to their neighborhood passed in silence. Lilly constantly fidgeted in her seat, trying to tug her skirt further down on her legs, or running her fingers through her hair to have something else to do.

***

When Miley woke up on Oliver's couch a few hours later with a migraine and a bad taste in her mouth, she was informed that Lilly was not speaking to her, but five minutes later Lilly felt so bad that Miley was miserable, her threat went out the window. They spent the day inside with the curtains drawn, Oliver having called Mr. Stewart to inform him that the girls fell asleep at his house while watching a movie.

When Lilly got her license not to long after that night, she refused to go to a party in the same car as Miley. The girl knew how to hold a grudge. At least for a few months.


	5. E is for elementary school

A/N: So, I got a ton of suggestions for E. I decided to just throw them all in a hat and pick one. Thanks to everyone who sent me a word, or lists of words. I already have something I'm working on for F, and I'll probably end up doing one of the words already suggested for G, so if you have any suggestions for any other letters, feel free to let me know. I might pick them, but again, no promises. I just like to have options.

This word was courtesy of AHigherOctave, and it features little Loliver, but just a little bit.

E is for elementary school.

Early afternoon, and it was finally recess. Lilly was so, so, tired of tracing cursive letters in a writing tablet and learning about the layers of the tropical rain forest. She was also so, so, ready to get to run around and play tag or basketball, or even four square. And four square was boring. The girls who played it never actually tried to win, they just kept bouncing the ball back and forth to one another, talking about Pretty Ponies or whatever those stupid toys were that they were not aloud to have in school. Lilly preferred faster games.

As the class of second graders trooped outside to the playground, Lilly naturally fell in behind Oliver. She stepped on the back of his sneaker to get his attention. He turned around to protest the injustice, and the words died on his lips as soon as he saw it was Lilly.

"What?"

"What are you gonna do?"

"I don't know." Oliver shrugged, not sure why he was supposed to make that decision right now. There were at least two more hallways to go before they made it out of the building, and they were not supposed to talk when they were in line, especially not when they were passing the library. It could get them in trouble.

"You wanna play tag?" she pressed, bouncing along behind him, twin French braids hitting her in the back as she did so.

"Nah." He did not say anything else through the length of the hallway, so Lilly just huffed and continued walking down the corridor.

"What about basketball?" she asked him as they turned into the last hallway before they would reach sunshine and playground games.

"We played basketball yesterday," he informed her, making it clear that putting a ball through a hoop was not likely to be part of his recess agenda today.

When the line of seven and eight year olds reached the outside of the building, the other two classes of the same age group were already outside. There was a gaggle of girls with a jump rope and another using chalk to outline a set of squares for hop scotch. The monkey bars and swing set were over run with another dozen children, and there was already a line of kids at the tether ball.

And then there was a group of boys in the makeshift baseball diamond. First base was the stump of an old palm tree. Second was the slide that only the kindergartners actually used. Third was the edge of the sidewalk that led to the water fountain. Probably not a regulation sized field or anything, but the kids worked with what they had. The group of boys was already dividing into teams, and they had a big red playground ball with them.

Oliver turned to Lilly after surveying the options. "You want to play kick ball?"

"But it's just boys." Lilly sounded disappointed, but Oliver ignored her words and ran off to the field, leaving her alone at the end of the sidewalk. Lilly looked to see where there would be other girls she could play with, but the only thing that looked interesting was tether ball, and she did not want to spend her entire time at recess waiting in line to take her turn. She was not that patient. Plus, she wouldn't even have Oliver to talk to if she got bored.

Just behind her, someone gave a snide little laugh before they said, "yeah, girls aren't good at kickball anyway."

A short, round boy named Chad sidled by her and made his way over to the group of boys, close behind Oliver. There was no doubt in Lilly's mind that it was Chad who thought girls were no good at kickball. Well, that made up her mind for her right there because it was absolutely impossible for Chad to be better at her in anything. She traipsed on over to the group of boys to see if they needed another person.

As luck would have it, they did, in fact, need another player. Unfortunately for Lilly, they needed another player on a little boy named Donny's team, and like Chad, he was not of the belief that girls could play kickball.

"What do you mean I can't play?" Lilly stood in the middle of the other children with her arms crossed in front of her.

"You're a girl," Donny informed her, as if she was unaware of her own gender.

"So?" Donny was a little bit taller than her, and he looked a little meaner than her, but she took a step toward him anyway. "You scared I'm better at kickball then you?"

"No!" Donny took a step forward too. "Girls aren't good kickers!"

Lilly narrowed her eyes and singled out Oliver, "tell him I can kick a ball far!"

Oliver's eyes widened and he shuffled his feet nervously. "Um… she can kick really, really, hard."

"See?" Lilly smiled in triumph, but Donny still looked unconvinced.

Chad took a step forward, preparing to say something that was likely not going to be in Lilly's favor, but one of the teachers had come over to see how the game was going, so he promptly shut his mouth. The teacher placed Lilly on the team with Oliver and Donny, and took up a post by the water fountain to insure that the second graders stuck to the rules.

Their team was in the field first, and Lilly was sent to the outfield. She tried not to angrily stomp her feet on the way there, knowing that she was sent there to stay out of the way. She watched as the people at first and second base each caught a ball, meaning only one more out until they would get to switch. After three boys scored though, and not a single ball had come in her direction, she was getting bored. So, when Chad was able to take his turn, she inched a little closer to the bases, wanting to be the one to catch the ball. Chad, being Chad, kicked it straight at Lilly. She caught it and smiled. Chad did not.

They switched sides, and again, Lilly was waiting. Maybe she should have just played tether ball. She was last in line, behind Oliver, so at least she got to talk to him. All he wanted to talk about though was Batman. His parents had finally let him watch "Batman Returns" and he could not stop talking about how cool Catwoman was. By the time it was Oliver's turn, Lilly was pretty sure she would never have to see the movie since he had just told her the entire story. She was also sure that the Joker was the best bad guy ever, and was really sick of hearing about Catwoman.

When it was Oliver's turn to kick the ball, he made the mistake of using the toe of his shoe, sending the playground ball into a perfect high flying arc, right into the arms of the person guarding second base. And Oliver was out. He shuffled his way to the back of the line of kids, kicking up clumps of dirt as he went, muttering to himself about making a "rookie mistake."

Lilly made her way to "home plate," which was really just a patch of dirt where kids had stood one after the other for too many years now, so grass did not even try to grow there. Chad tossed the ball lightly from one hand to another as she walked up. The first time he rolled the ball in her direction, it barely touched the ground. The ball was actually above her shoes when it made it to her. She just gave him a look and caught the ball with her hands instead of even trying to kick it.

"It's supposed to stay on the grass," Lilly said shortly, throwing the ball back to him.

Chad glanced over at the teacher who was busy helping someone over at the water fountain, and whipped the ball along the ground again. It was bouncing along the uneven surface so much that Lilly did not think this would be a very good shot, but she kicked it anyway. She used the inside of her right foot to hit the ball, turning her body just a little bit to make it look like the ball would head for third base, but the ball went high and straight ahead. Oliver had been right. The seven year old girl kicked much harder than any of the boys they were playing with, and Chad ducked to avoid getting hit in the face by the red rubber missile. So did the boy at second base.

Lilly gleefully took off, sparing a second to stick her tongue out at Chad, and managed to get to second base before she was in danger of being tagged with the ball. Their next kicker made the same mistake as Oliver though, and the ball was caught before Lilly could even start running. They switched again, and again, Lilly was relegated to the outfield. She rolled her eyes and took her position.

Chad managed to actually get on the bases this time, and he made sure to throw snide comments about girls not being good at sports over his shoulder whenever the teacher was not paying attention. Lilly was beginning to wish a ball would come in her direction, not so she could play, but so she could pelt the object at his head. By the time he got to third base, where Oliver was stationed, Lilly was ready to risk the trouble and just show Chad how hard she really could kick. Chad's attention moved from her to Oliver though when Oliver declared the next ball out.

"It was not!"

"It was over the water fountain. That's out!"

Oliver and Chad stood nose to nose, and even though the teacher was barely two feet away, she was too busy trying to console a little girl who had sand in her pigtails and a grass stain on her dress to notice what was going on with the kick ball players.

Lilly ran over, picked up the ball, and held on to it.

"If Oliver said it's out, it's out," she retorted.

"He's lying," Chad snapped.

"Oliver doesn't lie," she snapped back, and promptly kicked him as hard as she could in the shin.

Oliver giggled as they watched Chad start to hop around, trying to hold on to the shin Lilly had almost impaled on her sneaker. He was trying very hard not to cry, and he hobbled over to inform someone in charge just how mean Lilly Truscott was.

The other boys were able to go back to playing, and even though her teammates actually defended her actions, the teacher made Lilly sit out for the rest of recess. A note was also sent home with her for her parents. And even though she was not allowed to play with Oliver all weekend, it was worth it when she went back to school on Monday and all the boys (except Chad) wanted her on their team when they played kick ball that day. It was even more worth it when she saw that Chad's leg was bright purple.


	6. F is for fairy tales

A/N: I'm really sorry it took so long for me to get this up. I've been busy lately, and I didn't have as much time to write as usual.

F is for fairy tales.

On the television screen in front of her, a history professor was going on and on about the historical information scholars could glean from all of the stories recorded by the Brothers Grimm. Lilly blew a strand of blond hair out of her face, leaning back on the couch cushion. She glanced to her right and saw Miley was riveted to the screen, notebook in hand, scribbling something down about princesses and social status. Lilly sighed and punched buttons that spelled "help me" on to the screen of her phone for the tenth time.

She and Miley had been camped out in the Stewart family living room for the last four hours working on a project for English class. Lilly was beginning to wish they had picked another topic for their presentation because Miley was completely obsessed with the princess falling in love at first sight and being saved from a horrible life by a handsome prince. Miley had been shocked that not all of her beloved fairy tales had that storyline, and was now devouring everything she could that was even remotely related to the topic. Before Lilly had even got there, Miley had already watched three documentaries on her own. Lilly had been treated to lectures by History professors ever since she walked through the front doors of the beach house, and she was ready to lock her best friend in the nearest tower.

No reply came through on her texting program. Maybe the tenth message was overdoing it. Lilly was being ignored now.

"Miley, can we please take a break?" Lilly asked her. She used one of her bare feet to push a pencil across the surface of the coffee table.

Miley responded by turning up the volume, so Lilly flopped her head back again dramatically.

"You should be taking notes on everything," Miley shouted over the volume, turning to a new page in the spiral bound notebook in her lap.

"Miley, we don't have to give the complete history of the Grimms or the stories they wrote or the countries they got them from. We just have to pick one story to research, explain it, and then give a modern interpretation of it. You don't have to make it so complicated."

Picking up the remote from the coffee table, Miley paused the DVD. She took a deep breath and flipped her brown hair over her shoulder before she started talking.

"I already told you. We have to get an A on this presentation for me to bring my grade up. English is the only class where we can't do extra credit projects. I missed so much school this year that I have a C right now. My dad cannot know I have a C." Miley stuck her lower lip out at Lilly and widened her eyes.

"Fine," Lilly bit out, "but this is the last History lecture we're watching. After this, we pick a story and actually start working on the project."

"Deal."

Miley happily turned back to the television and started playing the lecture. Lilly tried to pay attention, she really did, but the man on the screen was just not as fun as Mr. Correlli. He was older than dirt, his skin almost the same shade as old newspaper with his white hair being almost nonexistent. His tone of voice never changed, and it was so flat that Lilly soon found herself curled up on her end of the couch, her head resting against a pillow, struggling to keep her eyes open. It would have been so much easier to be interested in what the guy was saying if she had not already heard the same explanation for the origins of Rapunzel on the last three lectures.

When Lilly finally did manage to get her eyes open, she had trouble identifying exactly where she was. She was no longer in Miley's living room. In fact, Miley was no longer anywhere in sight.

As she sat up, Lilly realized the fabric of the couch was almost stuck to her skin. There were red marks on her leg where the leather had almost fused to the side of her thigh below her shorts. That must have meant she had not made it home yet either. Her mother would never let them get a brown leather couch. The dog would probably eat it.

Lilly thought for a second, trying to focus. The couch was leather… that meant she was in her dad's apartment. He had told her he was getting a new couch just last week. Leather was definitely his thing. He thought the brown leather and dark wood made him look more serious, like his whole apartment was his office.

Lilly quickly jumped up and looked around, only to almost fall over. For some reason, she was wearing a pair of heels with her shorts. Why would she do that? That was definitely Miley's style, or maybe Lola's, not hers.

Thinking of Lola, Lilly quickly reached up to make sure she had her own hair and not a cotton candy colored wig. She did. Blonde hair, all in tact. Good.

She brought one of her feet up carefully, trying to pull the shoe off, but it wouldn't budge. It was stuck to her foot like someone had super glued it there. And it was clear, like crystal. Lilly's eyes widened and she tapped a fingernail against the heel. It even sounded like crystal, like two champagne glasses being clinked together for a toast.

"Okay. Weird. Very weird," Lilly muttered to herself as she turned to the door. Except that there was no door.

Where the door should have been there was nothing but smooth wall. No seams to indicate it had been replaced. None of the paint looked new either. Lilly knocked experimentally on the wall where the door should have been, but there was no hollow sound to let her know that open space existed on the other side. It all just sounded like more wall. No one would build a room without a door. It just wasn't done.

"Oh, great." Lilly threw her hands into the air. "I fell asleep on Miley's couch. Stupid Miley and her stupid videos."

She would have continued to talk to herself if she had not heard a metallic clanging coming from the small window that would have been larger if this was reality and also would have led to a fire escape. Lilly had a feeling there would be no fire escape outside.

Lilly cautiously made her way to the section of wall off of the living room, noticing that the floor was no longer carpeted, but was just gray concrete, and peered out the window that was just large enough for someone her size, or maybe slightly bigger than her, to squeeze through. Three stories below her, a familiar head of brown hair was waiting. He was also banging two trashcan lids together to make the clanging noise that got her attention.

"Hey, Lils! You texted for a rescue?" Oliver called up to her. Even three floors above him, Lilly could see him give an exaggerated wink. He tossed the lids to the ground.

Lilly laughed at herself. She fell asleep to a professor discussing Rapunzel, and this is what her subconscious comes up with? She's trapped in her father's apartment with Oliver waiting to climb up the side of the building. Perfect. Lilly propped her elbow on the window sill and placed her head in her hand while Oliver watched her.

"Yeah," she called back down to him. "So, how are you going to rescue me?"

"I don't know. I couldn't find a door." Oliver scrunched his nose up in concentration.

"Yeah, I'm kind of wondering what happened to the fire escape. I mean, how am I supposed to get out if the stove catches on fire?" Lilly asked sarcastically.

"You're not trying to cook anything are you?" Oliver responded with a smile.

"Ha. Ha. No, it was a hypothetical question." Lilly rolled her eyes. She was not a bad cook. He was never going to let that one time with the oven go though, even in her own head.

"So, I guess you don't have Miley's handy little rope ladder then?"

"Why would I have Miley's ladder at my dad's place?"

"So, I can sneak you out, duh."

"Wouldn't I be sneaking myself out?"

"Technicalities," Oliver said, brushing her comment off with a wave of his hand.

Why did her subconscious Oliver have to be just as annoying as the real one? If he was standing at the bottom of the locked building, didn't that mean he was supposed to be her knight in shining armor? Even in her dreams, her life wasn't fair. Lilly groaned and straightened back up to look around the apartment.

"Hey, where are you going?"

Oliver sounded a little worried, so Lilly turned back to the window.

"I'll be right back."

"Hey, can you throw me down something to eat then?"

"I'll see what I can do, but I'm a little busy trying to escape!"

"Aren't you supposed to, you know, throw your hair out the window or something?" Oliver asked.

"That would get you up here, but how would I get down there?" Lilly had her hands on her hips and was glaring at her best friend.

"Hey, maybe you could just jump!" Oliver nodded his head enthusiastically, but Lilly shook her head.

"Just wait there!" she snapped.

"Watch out for the evil queen," Oliver told her seriously.

"What are you talking about?"

"Every story has an evil queen."

Lilly really wanted to make a smart remark back to him, but he looked so concerned, that she decided to let it go. She just nodded her head and began walking around the living room. After only a few steps, her feet were killing her. How in the world had Cinderella managed to go to a ball in glass shoes? She perched on the arm of the couch and surveyed her surroundings.

The couch was paired with a dark wooden coffee table. No lamps, no end tables, no television. Lilly heard her stomach growl, and she glanced toward the kitchen, remembering that she was supposed to look for something for Oliver to eat. She couldn't really see into the kitchen, but she could see the outer counter where there was a bowl of apples sitting. Lilly rolled her eyes. Really, apples? Okay, she was definitely not eating any of those. At least, not a red one. Miley had filled her head with one too many fairy tales.

She struggled back to her feet and walked into her dad's bedroom. No windows in here. The ceiling light was on though. His bed was made perfectly with his khaki colored sheets and navy blue comforter, hospital corners and all. Sheets…

Lilly hobbled back to the window, wishing she had different shoes on, and paused to grab a green apple from the bowl on the counter.

"Hey, Oliver," she called, leaning her head outside.

"Yeah?" He looked around the street before he met her eyes.

"Do you think bed sheets would hold my weight?"

She held the apple up so he could see it before she dropped it down to him.

Oliver caught the fruit easily and his eyebrows shot up before he responded. "Lilly, this is your fantasy world. You could probably make a ladder out of toothpicks and it would work."

"You know what would have been better? If you had Batman's grappling hook thing," Lilly shot back.

"Hey, it's your dream, not mine." Oliver shrugged his shoulders.

Lilly pulled her head back inside the building, mumbling to herself as she went to strip the bed.

"It had to be Oliver. I couldn't have some amazing rock climbing guy or something. Nooo. Stupid boy." She stubbed her toe on the edge of the doorjamb to the bedroom and froze, expecting the shoe to have cracked into tiny shards of glass or something, but the shoe was perfectly in tact, even though her foot was throbbing.

She carried all of the bed linens back to the living room, and before she began knotting the sheets together, she stuck her head out the window again to check on Oliver, but he was flat on the sidewalk, asleep, the apple at his side.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." She took a deep breath before yelling, "Oliver, wake UP!"

He didn't move. And the sheets had disappeared from where she had piled them on the floor.

"Well, this is just great. The stupid knight in shining armor ate the poisoned apple and I'm stuck here."

Lilly sat on the edge of the window sill again, letting the heels of her glass shoes skim the concrete floor. Why couldn't she have a normal dream? You know, show up at school without pants on, or get lost in a giant maze or something. She closed her eyes and took a breath again.

"Okay, Lilly, you can wake up any time you want. It's all in your head. Just wake up."

She opened her eyes, but she was still perched on the window sill and she was still wearing glass shoes.

"This is ridiculous!" Lilly groaned.

"Pfft. Yeah, it is. I can't believe you actually thought the apples were poisoned and you still gave me one," A voice answered her from the kitchen.

Lilly gave a little yelp and jumped off the sill, only to land awkwardly sprawled on the concrete floor. Oliver was now standing in the kitchen eating an apple.

"What are you doing here? You were just out there!"

Oliver set the half eaten apple on the counter top and ambled over to her side. He knelt down next to her, offering his hand to help her.

"Magic," he whispered, his eyes locked with hers.

Lilly's eyes widened a little bit at seeing his face so close to her own, and she cleared her throat, accepting the hand he held out to help her up.

"So, why are you here?" Lilly tried again, smoothing down her tee shirt once she was back on her own two feet, or glass heels, as the case may be.

"You asked for help," Oliver reminded her.

"But you're not helping. I had to do everything myself," she snapped.

"Oh, really? Then take off the shoes." He gestured to her feet and smirked.

She really hated that she was finding his expression cute, so she shook it off.

"They're stuck."

"You sure?"

Lilly huffed, sitting on the couch again. She angrily tugged at first one shoe, then the other, but neither of them would move.

Oliver laughed, remarking, "Maybe you should stop wearing shoes that are too small for you."

"I didn't put these on. They were just there! And, they aren't too small, they're just glass and they hurt!" Lilly whined. She shoved one of her feet in his direction. "Look, it's a perfect fit!"

Oliver laughed again, grabbing her right foot and easily removing the shoe. "See, I'm helping."

He looked so smug that Lilly did not even care that her foot no longer hurt. She narrowed her eyes and jumped to her feet, hopping awkwardly on the one that was still encased in glass. She was up on the toe of her barefoot, and she was finding this even more uncomfortable than having both glass shoes on.

"You are so annoying!" She poked him angrily in the chest, but he didn't back up.

"I am not annoying."

He actually took a step closer to her, his smirk still in place. When he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, Lilly had to force herself to pay attention to what was going on. Okay, she had not been expecting her dream to take this direction. But, if she was the princess locked in the tower, and he was the prince who was supposed to save her, what had she expected, really?

There was that smirk again. It was infuriating. And completely unfair. This was supposed to be her subconscious. Oliver was not supposed to be the one in control.

A strangled sound emerged from her throat, and she tried to back away from him, but almost found herself falling over the couch. Oliver grabbed her arm to make sure she stayed upright, leaning close to her.

Lilly's breath caught and she froze when she felt his mouth right next to her ear. There was a long pause, and Lilly wasn't sure if she wanted the dream to move forward or not.

"I think it's time for you to wake up now," his voice whispered.

With a jolt, Lilly sat up on the couch in Miley's living room, almost smacking her head into Oliver's in the process.

"What are you doing here?" she practically shrieked, jumping off the couch.

Miley and Oliver exchanged amused looks when she shot a panicked look around the room.

"You texted me," Oliver reminded her. "I just came by to see how Miley was torturing you."

He was sitting on the arm of the couch near where Lilly had just been curled up. She could seem him trying not to smile at her reaction.

"Right," Lilly mumbled, her cheeks pink, just as Miley shouted, "I am not torturing her, we're working on our project!"

Lilly sighed, and sat back down on the couch. She edged a little closer to Miley than she had been to Oliver, feeling a little more self conscious than normal.

"Are you sure?" Oliver asked Miley. "She looks a little green."

Lilly glared at him, and he amended, "it's a cute green?"

Lilly and Miley both laughed, and Miley got up to take the DVD out of the player.

"That video's over already?" Lilly asked her, surprised. She tried to put the dream out of her head, but she was very aware of the person she had just dreamt was her "prince charming" was sitting only a foot away from her.

"You were asleep for, like, two hours," Miley informed her.

"Really?" Lilly looked over at Oliver, surprised.

"Don't look at me. I've only been here for a few minutes. I was just trying to wake you up." Oliver shrugged.

"It doesn't matter. The information was all the same anyway. And, you said we had to pick a story after that one was over." Miley stood in front of her stack of DVDs she had checked out from the library or rented from the local video store and started flipping through them.

"What's your project again?" Oliver asked.

"Fairy tales," Lilly groaned. "Apparently they're Miley's favorite thing ever."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me," Oliver muttered to her.

Miley ignored them to ask, "which one do you want to do?"

"I don't know. Just pick one," Lilly said rolling her eyes.

"Okay… how about…"

But Lilly cut her off. "I don't want to do Rapunzel. I mean, who locks a girl in a tower? It makes me feel claustrophobic." She shook her head, not liking the feeling of being stuck with nowhere else to go. She especially did not like being trapped with dream-Oliver.

"Okay," Miley agreed. "No Rapunzel. How about…"

"And no Snow White either. I happen to like apples, and that story makes me want to never eat them," Lilly added. She was never going to forget that dream-Oliver had passed out after eating a poisoned apple and had failed to come to her rescue. Of course, he had made that up to her by ridding her of one glass shoe.

Miley's eyes widened. Apparently Lilly had strong feelings about some of these fairy tales, even if they made no sense.

"Why don't you guys do the Little Mermaid?" Oliver asked.

"We're doing the Grimm Brothers. She's Hans Christian Anderson," Miley informed him.

"There's a difference?" Oliver asked. He was picking at a lose thread on the arm of the couch.

"Of course there's a difference!" Miley almost yelled. She grabbed a case from the pile. "There's a whole lecture here comparing the stories they wrote."

"Oh, nooo," Lilly moaned.

Twenty minutes into the video, Lilly wrestled the remote away from Miley and stopped it.

"Put on something else, anything else," Lilly answered Miley's glare.

"Fine. We can watch one of the actual stories," Miley said to Lilly, smiling.

Oliver chuckled while Lilly glared.

"This isn't so bad," he whispered to Lilly. "Kind of interesting."

"You haven't been here all day."

"Yeah, well, it looked like you slept through a lot of it," Oliver responded.

Lilly felt her cheeks turn pink again when she remembered how her dream ended, and she decided not to respond to that comment.

"I'll trade you partners," Lilly muttered to Oliver as Miley put another DVD into the player.

"No way. Todd and I are almost done. I already did the written part, and he's in charge of the visual aids." Oliver nodded his head in thought.

"What are you guys doing?" Lilly asked him curiously.

"The hero's journey in comic book stories," Oliver informed her.

Lilly and Miley's eyes met before Miley started laughing.

"Your whole presentation is about Batman, isn't it?" Lilly asked over Miley's laughter.

"Of course. He's the classic hero."

Miley cut in to ask a question. "What exactly is Todd's visual aide? Is he going to dress up as Batman or is he going to come to school in a Toga?"

Lilly and Miley dissolved into giggles at the thought, but Oliver had a slightly horrified look on his face.

"I was hoping he would just put together a bunch of movie clips. Why would he come to school in costume? You don't really think he would do that, do you?" Oliver's eyes flicked back and forth between his two friends.

"Why not?" Miley said after she managed to stop laughing. "Lilly and I thought about dressing up as fairy tale characters."

"Yeah, we just have to pick which story we want to focus on first," Lilly added. "And that's not going to happen until Miley stops doing so much research."

"I want to do Cinderella," Miley suddenly decided, moving back to her spot at the other end of the couch.

Lilly blinked. She had been asking Miley to make a decision all day, and now, all of a sudden, Cinderella was her pick?

"Cinderella?" Lilly asked blandly, pulling her feet back up underneath her.

"Yep, it's the perfect story," Miley smiled to herself, staring off into space.

"But… but… the Grimm brothers weren't even the first people to come up with that story," Lilly protested. She wasn't sure if she was ever going to be able to think about the story without envisioning Oliver saving her feet from the strangling of the glass shoes.

"They weren't the first people to come up with any of their stories. They just wrote them down," Miley shot back.

"At least the modern version will be easy for you. Every chick flick is a Cinderella story."

Lilly and Miley both turned to Oliver in surprise.

"You're right!" Miley exclaimed. "Perfect!" She then jumped up from the couch and ran to the staircase.

"What is she doing?" Oliver asked Lilly.

"No idea."

They both stared at the hallway for a few seconds, but Miley did not come back. Lilly shrugged and turned to watch the menu come up on the television screen for an animated version of Cinderella.

"So, what do you have against Cinderella?" Oliver questioned while Lilly stared at the screen.

"Nothing…" Lilly did not meet his eyes though.

"Come on, you can tell me," Oliver goaded, poking her in the shoulder.

"Nothing… it's just… she changes her clothes and her hair and suddenly everyone loves her. It's like, no one sees her as a person until she puts on the dress and the shoes." Her voice was bitter and she crossed her arms across her chest. Lilly hadn't even realized how much she disliked the story until now. "I mean, I'm all for love at first sight. It's romantic and all, but what if the prince saw Cinderella before, but he didn't care about her because she didn't look like a princess? The makeover gets her noticed? It's crap."

Oliver tried not to smile once he was able to grasp the real reason Lilly disliked stories where the girl had a complete makeover before she got the guy. Makeovers had never gone well for Lilly.

"Lils, people notice you."

She rolled her eyes, but did not look at him.

"You don't need to be a princess for people to see you." He watched Lilly's face, but she did not turn in his direction. She did, however, move a little closer to him.

"Yeah, well, I think you might be a little biased." A corner of her mouth turned up before she could stop it.

"Biased, please, just cause I might have ulterior motives for telling my best friend she might be pretty…" Oliver paused, realizing what he said, then hurried on, "Does this mean you're not going to dress up in the poofy blue dress and the glass shoes?" Oliver looked at Lilly expectantly.

"No way. I'll leave the dress to Miley. And glass shoes are so not comfortable." She looked up at him where he was perched on the arm of the couch next to her, her face still a little pink. She could almost feel the glass shoes on her feet, not being able to take them off.

"Yeah, I think you guys should do "The Little Mermaid" anyway. It would be much more entertaining." Oliver smirked at Lilly while he waited for the outrage he thought would follow.

Lilly shook her head at his smirk, wishing she didn't notice it. "There is no way I would wear a fish tail and clam shell bikini top in front of our English class. Besides, we're doing the Grimm Brothers, remember?"

"Huh, here I was only picturing the fish tail," Oliver remarked jokingly.

At first, Lilly didn't know whether to be flattered or offended by that. She made the decision before Miley made it back though.

When Miley came back downstairs with a pile of chick flicks in her arms, she found Oliver on the ground and Lilly trying to look innocent as she leaned back on the couch with a pillow clutched in one hand.


	7. G is for gummy bears

A/N: I feel like it's been forever and a day since I even thought about my alphabet challenge for myself. I'm sorry it took so long to get going on this. I just couldn't decide what to do with it. The word this time around was suggested by multiple people, but I think IheartORANGE was the first one, so this installment is thanks to her. This one is definitely more trio oriented than just Lilly too, but, oh well. I have a couple of things in mind for the next few letters, but if anyone has any suggestions, don't hesitate to throw them out there. They are always appreciated, even if I don't end up using them.

G is for gummy bears.

"I'll trade you a snickers for those red hots."

"No way. I love red hots."

"Okay, two snickers."

"He's not gonna give them up Miley, you might as well just drop it."

Miley threw an exasperated look across the table at Lilly and continued to sort her candy. She had a pile designated for chocolate, another for gum, one for lollipops, and then there were the assorteds. Some of them she didn't even recognize.

Lilly watched her work, then dumped her own haul in her section of the kitchen table. A few pieces of bubblegum in blue and yellow wrappers spilled into a pile that included the coveted red hots, and Lilly giggled as Oliver leaned far back in his own chair.

"Lilly! Get that away from my candy!" Oliver's lip curled back in disgust and he made a shooing motion with the hand that was not clutched around a small bag of skittles. If the pieces of gum had been a fly, that might have worked. As it was, the waving of his hand only served to make the puffed up sleeve of his shirt that he had tried to roll up fall back down around his wrist.

"Relax, it's not like it's been chewed yet," she said to him, snatching up the pieces and depositing them on the other side of the pile.

Oliver pointed to his own candy and gestured for Lilly to continue degumming his treats. She just rolled her eyes and picked the gum out of the pile. She handed him two caramel apple lollipops in exchange for the eight pieces of gum she removed. It had been the standard deal with them since they began spending Halloween together when they were five. Oliver got all the caramel and/or apple candy and she got anything that had gum in it.

"Hey, how come Lilly gets all that?" Miley protested as she watched him fork over a handful of lollipops with gum in the middle. All Lilly gave him was another two caramel apple lollipops, and a green apple flavored jolly rancher.

"She's grandfathered in," Oliver explained. "She argued about how fair it was when we were five. She was saving me from the gum. It's easier to not fight with her about it." He shrugged his shoulders and Lilly nodded her head in satisfaction.

As far as Lilly was concerned, the Apple-Gum treaty, as she liked to call it, was the best deal her five-year-old self had ever made. Every year she ended up with more candy than Oliver because half of their neighborhood usually bought candy with gum in it. It was the perfect way to earn more sweets. Miley, however, was not having it.

"But that's not fair. What if I would have traded you something better for it?" She gave Oliver a pointed look, and Lilly started laughing. Miley had no idea what she was getting into.

"What could possibly be better than this?" Oliver asked her sharply, holding up one of the bright green lollipops covered in caramel coating. His fingertips gripped the top of the cellophane surrounding it and he stared at it almost reverently.

"Red hots," Miley stated triumphantly, quickly changing her tactics and pulling the crown she had been wearing from her brown curls with one hand and showing him one of his favorite candies with the other.

"That's not fair!" Oliver looked torn. He really wanted to keep the red hots. No one gave those out anymore. On the other hand, he didn't want to lose out on a chance at caramel and apple goodness either. In his opinion, there was nothing like a caramel apple lollipop. Best invention ever. Next to the skateboard. Or maybe the surfboard. He looked at Lilly, expecting her to offer up some sort of advice, but she was busy scanning their piles to see if there was anything else she wanted to trade.

Miley tapped her plastic crown impatiently on the table.

"Fine!" Oliver picked up the two very tiny boxes of cinnamon candy and made the trade.

"Oliver!" Lilly suddenly exclaimed.

"What?"

He and Miley both turned to look at Lilly in alarm, thinking something was seriously wrong. Her eyes were wide and her lips slightly parted. The effect was a little startling since she had so much pale make up on her face. For the first time that night, Oliver actually thought she looked a little zombie-like.

"You didn't tell me you have," she paused to reach across him and move some of the wrappers in front of him out of the way, "seven of the little bags of gummy bears! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Is he supposed to clear his candy through you?" Miley asked her curiously.

Lilly narrowed her eyes at Miley. Obviously Miley, who she thought knew her almost as well as Oliver after over a year of friendship, knew nothing of what constituted the perfect haul on Halloween.

"Anything with the word 'gum' in it, remember?' Lilly asked Oliver sweetly when she turned back to him.

His forehead wrinkled and he thought about it. "But… I don't think gummy bears actually have gum in them."

"They're chewy… like gum," Lilly tried to tell him in the same sweet tone she used before, her eyes wide and innocent again, but she faltered a bit in her reasoning.

Oliver raised his eyebrows. "Do you think it's made out of the same stuff?" He poked one of the small bags with his finger, testing the consistency of the little bears inside.

"Absolutely," Lilly said, just as Miley remarked, "Not a chance."

"Lilly, come on, there's no way gummy bears have gum in them," Miley added, rolling her eyes.

Lilly glared at the girl she had decided would be her friend last year. Miley was really not getting this. It was gummy bears! Her third favorite candy, ever, and something that almost no one thought of using at Halloween. It wasn't exactly the first treat that came to mind when you thought of the pseudo-holiday where kids focused on candy and scare tactics.

"Miley," Lilly said through gritted teeth, "don't you remember that movie last week, with the gummy worms?" Lilly waited for her words to sink in.

Not too long ago the three friends had decided to go see a movie together, and Oliver had tried to steal Lilly's sour gummy worms half way through. They were, of course, her favorite, number one on the list, and always best enjoyed while watching a scary movie. In order to get Oliver to stop taking them from her, she had informed him that they were made out of the same things that could be found in bubble gum, and did he really want to risk getting one that had not been made properly? What if they put the gum ingredients in one batch, not the worms? Lilly reasoned with him, that really, she was only looking out for his best interest. Miley had gone along with all of it, knowing that the blue raspberry and green apple worms were Lilly's favorite. Besides, Oliver already had his own container of those chocolate covered cookie dough pieces. He really did not need any more candy that night.

"Ooohh, right." Miley nodded her head, now understanding just where Lilly was going with this. "I completely forgot that they were made with the same ingredients."

"See?" Lilly asked Oliver.

He narrowed his eyes, looking back and forth between the two girls, now a little suspicious, and placed one of his hands protectively over the bags of bears. Truth be told, he had kind of been suspicious at the movies as well, but everyone around them had been telling them to be quiet, so he decided to let it go instead of getting thrown out of the theater.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the appearance of a teenage boy dressed completely in black at the bottom of the staircase. He was armed with a pack of toilet paper.

"Whatdya think you're doing?" Miley asked her brother.

"I'm going to a party with Coop," Jackson told her quickly, shoving the toilet paper behind his back. "This is my costume."

Lilly and Oliver both laughed, but Miley was most definitely not amused.

"You are goin' to be in so much trouble!" she told Jackson, rising from the table.

"Oh, come on, Miles, we're just havin' a little fun. You'd wanna have fun too if Kunkle was your science teacher."

While Miley was distracted by Jackson's attempt at a puppy dog pout and his pleading with her to not tell their dad, Lilly inched her hand closer to Oliver's, hoping to be able to at least swipe one of the bags of gummy bears from him. She thought he would have his attention on the bickering siblings, but apparently she miscalculated, because his other hand closed over hers just as her fingertips inched on to the hand he had covering the candy.

"Oliver, come on, please?" Lilly tried. "You know I love gummy stuff."

"It doesn't really have gum in it, does it?" Oliver asked, keeping both of his hands firmly clamped down, one on the pile of bags, one on Lilly's hand, while she tried to wiggle her fingers free.

She huffed and stopped trying to free her hand. "No."

"I knew it!" If he hadn't been so intent on making sure that Lilly could not take any of his candy, he would have pumped his fists in the air in victory.

Lilly rolled her eyes and asked again, "so, can I have one, just one?"

"No way. You've exhausted your trading privileges this year."

"You sound like your mom."

"I'm going to go ahead and take that as a compliment since you like her so much."

"It wasn't one."

"It should've been."

"Ugh. Oliver!"

"Lilly!"

"Do your friends always hold hands when they're fighting over candy?" Jackson asked Miley. He had given up on trying to convince her not to tell their dad, figuring he was just going to have to leave soon, so he at least had the chance to participate in the festivities at his least favorite teacher's house before Miley gave him up to the old man.

"No, sometimes Lilly pinches him too."

They watched as Lilly tried to pry Oliver's hand from her own. The two of them were still arguing.

"Oliver, you're squishing my fingers."

"Maybe you shouldn't have tried to steal from me."

"I wasn't stealing! I'll trade you something!"

"I don't see anything I want."

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

'What about…"

"No."

Jackson laughed at the expression on Lilly's face. Sometimes his sister's friends were more entertaining than their family back home.

"I wouldn't laugh if I were you," Miley told him out of the corner of her mouth. "You should see them when they really get going. It could get ugly."

"You didn't even let me finish!"

"Cause I don't want anything!"

Lilly gave up on the arguing and stopped trying to loosen the grip of his fingers from her own. She was just going to have to attempt a different tactic. She snaked her free hand around to his side and started tickling him.

"Lilly! Not fair!"

Oliver jerked his body away from her, but since he was still trying to protect his candy with both hands, he didn't get very far.

"Just let go of my hand!" Lilly yelled at him.

Oliver was laughing hysterically now, and he did let go of her hand, but only to use his hand to launch an assault of his own on her side.

"Well, at least they aren't killing each other," Miley remarked shrugging her shoulders.

"Ah, young love," Jackson sighed as he made his way to the back door.

"Love? You really do have something wrong with your head, you know," Miley called after him. She watched Lilly for a second. Love? Nah. Lilly just liked to antagonize him. And Oliver never knew when to give up. She winced as a few of Lilly's pieces of gum rolled from the top of the table and on to the floor when she tried to back away from Oliver. Miley groaned, then shouted, "guys, be careful! You're going to mix all the candy together!"


	8. H is for handwriting analysis

A/N: I'm sorry you all had to wait so long for this. I've had some severe writer's block lately on top of an incredibly busy life. I started this a couple of months ago and got stuck, then scrapped it and started over. I hope you like it! This one is set during Lilly's college years. Also, everything that Lilly and her classmate discuss about handwriting, I made a lot of it up, but some of it is used by graphologists.

H is for handwriting analysis.

"So, as you can see, phrenology had many down sides to it, but it still managed to persist as an acceptable branch of psychology for several years."

Phrenology, Lilly jotted down quickly, study of cranial surface: crazy people. She tapped her pen impatiently, willing the clock to move faster. Why had she decided to take an intro level psychology class to fill up some elective credits? Oh, right. The lady in the student affairs office had assured her that some of the things she learned here would transfer to her education major.

Well, she was pretty sure she wouldn't be judging her future students based on their appearance or the bumps on the surface of their skulls.

Actually there was that one kid she baby-sat when she was sixteen who definitely would have fit the profile for… no, that wasn't fair. His parents were nuts. He probably got it from them

Lilly let out a breath, dropping her bright blue pen on top of her notebook. She crossed her arms, leaning back in the very uncomfortable chair at the back of the room. How did people pay attention in rooms like this? The seat of the "chair" was wooden, so was the tiny pull out desk thing that attached to the arm of the chair. The door at the back of the room squeaked every time someone opened it and discovered this wasn't the room they were looking for. Even the hinges that pulled the wooden seat down sounded like they needed to be oiled every time Lilly shifted. The air conditioning wasn't working either. Gathering her hair at the base of her neck, Lilly wound it around in attempt to cool her skin, but it quickly dropped back down over her shoulders when she shifted again.

Giving up, Lilly slouched, trying to focus on what the professor was saying. Two weeks of this class and it wasn't getting any more interesting. He was going off on some tangent now about people who used other methods similar to phrenology today. Apparently he really disliked palm readers. Because the whole life line and love line thing was a myth. Okay, she could understand his griping there, but getting your palm read was a lot more fun than having someone comb the surface of your skull for bumps. At least, it was supposed to be.

"Graphology is another supposed science that shouldn't really be getting respect from the academic community. Pen pressure, the roundness of letters, then angle at which you write, none of that has any real bearing on your personality." The professor paused dramatically at that, his eyes sweeping the length of the room. "Or does it? I want you all to get in pairs, provide each other with writing samples, in your natural handwriting, discuss what you think with one another, and be honest, then give me a brief explanation of what you think that person's like."

A hand in the front row shot into the air, waving around wildly and Lilly rolled her eyes. Not a class period went by that Natalie didn't have a question, or five, and then a few follow ups "just to clarify." That girl needed a life.

"What should we include in our writing sample? And how long should it be?"

"Think of it like that old party game. Two truths and a lie. Just a few sentences about yourself. You'll probably want to do more than just three though. At least one of them should be a lie. Just so we cans see if its easy to tell." The professor paused to chuckle as though he had made a joke, but he was interrupted again.

"But, what kind of information?" Natalie's voice climbed an octave as she began furiously scribbling notes on what would be required in this writing sample.

Lilly decided to tune out her shrill speech and turned to the person two seats down from her.

"Hey, you want to pair up?"

The guy gave her a quick once over. He looked like he belonged on stage with a rock band in a skeezy bar. His jeans were so worn they probably should have been washed a couple of weeks ago and his hair was shaggy and dark brown, just covering his eyes. He was wearing a pair of converse that looked like they had seen better days, and his left hand had the faded remnants of a stamp from one of the clubs downtown. Lilly felt a pang somewhere in the pit of her stomach when he finally responded by nodding his head briefly and tearing a sheet of paper from his notebook as he slid into the seat next to her. He reminded her of her best friend who was currently half a country away playing to a sold out crowd somewhere on the east coast. She wished Oliver had never gotten over his stage fright in high school. Then, he could have been taking boring classes with her instead of living in a tour bus and having hot girls try to follow him from city to city. She watched her partner begin to jot down a few things on his paper and she scrambled for something to write about, tearing out the last page in her notebook, not paying any attention to the fact that there was already some writing on the back of it.

_I've been skateboarding and surfing almost since I learned how to walk. I hate lima beans, but I love carrots. My best friend let me eat an eyeball once. I plan on being a history teacher. My boyfriend's a rock star._

She figured the lie in the sentence would be pretty obvious. If she was dating a rock star, would she really be here? Probably not. Lilly sighed as she handed her paper over and took one from the guy who she now saw also had a small tattoo on his forearm. Slapping the paper down on her desk, she glanced over the page.

_I've lived on six continents. My favorite color is green. I have two sisters. I love coffee._

That was it? That was all she got? His sentences were so much shorter than hers. How was she supposed to tell if he was lying? His handwriting was so uniform, his letters perfectly straight. He almost wrote with military precision. Hmmm… Lilly wondered if he actually did write with military precision. If that was the case, the first sentence might be true. She bit her lip and tried to look at the words more objectively, at the way the ink moved across the page instead of what the words actually said.

"I don't like lima beans either," the voice came to her from a seat away. Lilly looked up slowly, trying to determine if he was just attempting to gauge her lying capability, or if he was actually trying to have a conversation with her.

"Mmm." Lilly made a vague hand movement and tapped her pen again, hoping they could get this over with quickly.

"So…" he tried again, "here's what I think. You wrote down that you surf and skateboard first because that's what you've been known for, so you've probably been one of the guys your whole life."

Lilly felt herself starting to smile, but she clamped it down. This guy was better than she thought. She didn't think he would actually be right.

"But your handwriting is really round, and you do that weird curly thing on your y's and your g's. so you have a really girly side." He raised his eyebrows at her and paused when she nodded her head, conceding that he was correct so far. "Why don't you tell me about me so I can figure out which one of these is a lie?"

"Umm…okay…" Lilly thought for a second. If he was so smart, how did he not see the obvious lie? "Well, there's a much larger space between your sentences about your favorite color and about having sisters, so…" Lilly hesitated, not sure she was doing this correctly, "You must have really had to think about that sentence. That's either your lie or you didn't know what else you wanted to say about yourself."

"Which is it?"

"It doesn't really matter, does it? Either way, it means that you aren't used to telling people about yourself. You don't volunteer a lot of information." She said it all in a rush, hoping she didn't offend him, but he just gave her a half small and his eyes sparkled a little bit under that shaggy hair.

"Not bad, surfer girl. Most people would immediately think that meant the two sisters was the lie."

"So it's not?" Lilly asked him hopefully, flashing a quick smile.

"No, it's not," he agreed, now drumming his fingers thoughtfully on the surface of his desk while his eyes flicked over the paper she had give him. "Can I ask why you ate an eyeball?"

"I didn't know it was an eyeball!" Lilly burst out, rolling her eyes. "It was in a stew that I tried. She didn't tell me right away."

"That's disgusting."

His voice was flat, but she could tell he still seemed amused, and Lilly realized a little too late that she had just admitted that sentence wasn't a lie either. She decided she had to figure out his lie first. Lilly always had been a little too competitive with the guys she new, and her favorite one happened to be on the opposite coast, probably almost done rocking out somewhere. She eyed the sentences again, noticing that one of the words in the last sentence was printed much darker than the rest.

"Why do you hate coffee so much?" Lilly asked him, genuinely curious, and surprised that she was able to figure it out.

"It makes me nauseous. You know, for someone who always looks so bored in class, you're pretty good at this stuff," he informed her, brushing his hair away from his eyes.

"Yeah, well, the best friend that let me eat an eyeball, she used to make me analyze love letters from her boyfriends all the time, so this isn't as hard as I thought it was going to be."

Lilly relaxed a little in her seat now and began jotting down a few words about their experience, wanting to be able to turn in her paper to the professor and get out of there. It was a Friday night, after all, and she was expecting a phone call from a certain someone after his show. Why had she scheduled a class for Friday evenings? Right, again, that stupid woman in the advising office. Everything was her fault.

"So, you're not one of those girls who overanalyzes her boyfriend's text messages or voice mails then, if you already had to do it for someone else?"

"Ha. No. I mean, sometimes, but no, not really." Lilly hesitated, wondering just what he was getting at.

"So, is rock star here, like, literal rock star, or is it a figure of speech, like you know, 'you rock,' or something?" He raised his eyebrows expectantly and Lilly fought down a grin.

"Literal."

"Really? Interesting."

"What do you mean?" She crossed and uncrossed her legs again, biting the inside of her cheek. This guy was starting to get to her. Why did he have to ask so many questions? She had made hers quick and to the point, and now she felt like she was in some sort of therapy session. She avoided his eyes when he started talking again, staring at the front of the classroom.

"It just doesn't seem like you're lying on any of your statements. There's no hesitation or anything. I mean, the way you wrote boyfriend is a little more… round than the rest of the words on the paper, and it does slant to the right more than anything else, but I think that's just because you aren't used to using the word. It's like you don't want to admit he's your boyfriend, but at the same time, you were excited to put it down."

"Oliver isn't my boyfriend," Lilly said before remembering that she hadn't specified that the rock star she had been referring to was actually named Oliver.

"Oliver, huh?"

There was a tense silence between them after that and Lilly continued to stare straight ahead, focusing on the other voices around her and the sound of shuffling papers.

"Well, there is this whole conversation between the two of you on the back of the paper. What, did he come to class with you the first day or something?"

Lilly deflated, slumping her shoulders a little.

"He's not my boyfriend. That's the lie."

"Really? You sure about that?"

"What?" Lilly whipped her head around so quick to look at him that she was lucky she didn't break anything.

"Nothing. I mean, if you say he's not your boyfriend, I believe you."

He was staring down at the paper now writing out his portion of the assignment and the skepticism was evident in his tone.

"What?" Lilly repeated before she sighed. "Just tell me."

"It's just, you guys must be insanely close then. Like, he's what my younger sister would call a friend-boy." He brought his gaze back up to Lilly's, and found she was serving him with a blank stare. "It means, there's no real romance being attempted, no physicality, but for all intents and purposes, you are in a relationship."

"You got that from the way I wrote boyfriend?"

"Well, no," he confessed, "I got that from the notes you wrote back and forth." He looked back down at the paper again, pointing out a couple of lines before going back to what he had been writing. "He started writing to you, and it was relatively simple, not a whole lot of quirks to his handwriting. After you responded, he started pressing the pen harder against the paper, and he wrote smaller, closer to what you wrote."

"Trying to save space," Lilly responded easily.

"And you guys quit paying attention to the fact that this is lined paper. Once you started arguing about halfway down the page, every time you responded to him, your sentences would gradually go uphill. It's like, unconsciously, you guys are trying to be even closer to one another."

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Lilly snapped. He was really beginning to irritate her now. Who was he to say she wanted to date her oldest friend? He didn't even know them. "We were just trying not to waste paper."

"Right, because you didn't have an entire notebook you could use."

Even though she couldn't see them, she could sense his eyes rolling beneath the fringe of hair hanging in his face. Lilly angrily jotted down the rest of her thoughts on the assignment and they sat there for a few minutes, pens scratching on their respective papers, not saying anything to one another. Lilly listened to a pairing a few rows ahead of her arguing about ink color, and something occurred to her.

"You said we were trying to be closer to each other?" Lilly asked carefully.

"Yeah."

She shifted in her seat again before she continued with, "so you think he and I feel the same way about each other?"

"Oh, definitely." There was another pause, and he set down his pen, flipping his hair out of his face to look at her. "Is that what you're worried about? You afraid he doesn't feel the same way?"

"We tried dating once, and we decided we were better off as friends."

"Why?"

Squirming again, Lilly was really wishing she hadn't let this topic continue. "I don't know, it seemed like a good idea at the time. We've been friends since we were four!"

"So, what you're saying is, you've been in love with the same guy since you were four? You should tell him how you feel."

"He's in the middle of a tour, I can't tell him now!" Lilly's voice rose a little bit in that one and the people ahead of them turned to glare in their general direction. She switched to a whisper. "I am not going to call one of my best friends when he is in the middle of one of the biggest opportunities of his life to tell him how I really feel."

"Wait, so he is really a rock star?" He looked genuinely impressed now.

"Kind of."

"You have to tell him. It doesn't matter how scared you are of the water, it gets to the point where you just have to jump in."

Lilly gave him what Oliver used to refer to as "the Truscott look of death," but it apparently had no effect on this guy.

"Just because you think I have to, doesn't mean I have to."

"Did you sleep with him?" He asked her point blank.

"What? What kind of a question is that? You don't just ask someone that!" Lilly exclaimed, her face reddening.

"I'll take that as a yes." He cocked his head to the side and studied the expression of surprise she was now wearing. "Even if you weren't in love with him, sex changes things. You guys aren't just friends. Not anymore."

They both started when a throat was cleared above them.

"As interesting as I am sure Miss Truscott's love life is, you are supposed to be focusing on your assignment." The professor loomed over them, and his voice managed to bounce all over the room. Lilly could feel everyone's eyes turn to the last row of seats, and she wished she could make herself even smaller.

"We actually already finished," her partner informed him smoothly, scooping up his, as well as Lilly's papers from their desks and passing them to the teacher.

"I'm sure," the instructor returned snidely before glancing down at the comments on the pages in his hands. His brow furrowed, the relaxed, before he cleared his throat again and announced, "alright, you two can go. Read chapter three for next week."

Letting out a breath, Lilly jammed her belongings into her oversized tote bag and almost raced out of the room. Once on the sidewalk outside the building, the humidity hit her like a wall, and she stopped short, rifling through her bag for her cell phone so she could turn the ringer back on.

"Hey, you need a ride back to your dorm or anything?"

Lilly turned around and saw the guy she had just allowed to know the one secret she hadn't told anyone since her senior year of high school coming up behind her. Clutching the phone to her chest, she smiled slightly and said, "No, thanks, but I think I want to walk. I'm expecting a phone call, and I want to sort out what I'm going to say."

"Ah, I see. I'll see you in class next week. You can tell me how it goes." He nodded his head and headed for the nearest parking structure.

Lilly had barely walked a block when the phone began to ring. Taking a deep breath and rolling her shoulders to loosen the tension there, she decided she was just going to have to jump.

***


	9. I is for igloos

**A/N: So, I didn't like my original idea for this particular letter, and igloos popped into my head just as I started asking for advice. Nothing more random than that, right? Haha. You guys might like this one though. Since I didn't have a particularly good day today, I decided to finish this and go for some happy writing to make myself feel better. Enjoy.**

I is for igloos.

Lilly had always been the kind of person to become fascinated with some of the most random things. She once became obsessed with finding the perfect shade of purple nail polish. Another time she spent an entire week watching the whole Agatha Christie mini series collection from beginning to end just because she could, and then spent the next week solving random "mysteries" around the neighborhood to amuse herself. But there was one thing that had honestly fascinated her since the very first time she saw it, and she was quick to admit it whenever the subject was brought up.

_Pre-Kindergarten, Day 9_

"Who can tell me what this is?" Miss Lowell, the current teaching assistant with long red curls and an infectious smile, asked the kids sitting in a semicircle on the green carpet at her feet.

Lilly pulled slightly on the end of her braid, her eyes locked on the picture Miss Lowell held in her hand. It was white, round, and sitting right on top of the snow. She knew exactly what it was, but she didn't want to seem like a know-it-all, so she kept playing with her hair, not saying a word.

"I'll give you a hint," Miss Lowell went on, pinning the picture up on their bulleting bored just after the picture of a hat, "it begins with the letter 'I'." She waited, eyeing the children expectantly, knowing at least one of them knew exactly what it was, especially when she spotted a certain blonde girl in a pair of shorts and a bright orange tee shirt fidgeting in her seat on the carpet.

When Lilly's eyes met the teaching assistant's, she sighed, her hand raising tentatively into the air.

"Yes?"

"It's an igloo."

"Very good."

Miss Lowell gave her a big smile, and continued with the lesson, showing everyone what the letter 'I' looked like and other words that started with the same letter. Lilly barely paid attention to the rest of it though, eager to get her very own picture of an igloo to color, as was customary with the alphabet part of the day. When she was finally given the white sheet of paper with a big letter 'I' in the upper left corner and a large igloo in the center of the paper, she couldn't get wait to get started. She selected a purple crayon, coloring alternating blocks of ice on the dome for a few minutes before switching to blue.

"I thought igloos were made of snow," the little boy next to her asked as he peeked over her paper.

"They are," she told him, intent on finishing her picture.

"Snow can't be purple," he said in a sing song voice.

"Why not?" she asked him. "It's my snow. I can make it purple if I want to."

"If I could make snow any color, I'd make it bright green… like slime in the cartoons."

Lilly looked up from her paper and eyed him suspiciously. "You're weird."

She spent that entire week attempting to build her own version of an igloo in the sandbox. She used buckets and buckets of sand, but it just never looked the same as the igloos in the pictures. Apparently sand didn't work the same as snow. It didn't hold together, except when it was wet, and it was hard to pack it enough to make it stand up for very long when there were other kids who were always ready to knock it down. Five days on the playground with her creation never being up to snuff finally convinced her that people in California just couldn't live in igloos. It just wasn't a good idea.

***

_Junior year, Working on a service project_

"Miley, I'm telling you, we should totally design it as a giant igloo."

"It's supposed to be a Christmas party. Why would we have an igloo? We need to make Santa's workshop."

There were piles of construction paper, glitter, magazines, all kinds of arts and crafts items on the kitchen table between the two girls. Miley was beginning to wonder if she could just call in a Hannah favor. It would make everything so much easier. She wasn't supposed to be using her Hannah connections in her everyday life anymore. That's what got her into trouble over the last year and got her sent to Tennessee for a mandatory vacation.

"What do you think Santa lives in? A log cabin?" Lilly asked incredulously.

She had volunteered the two of them to head up the decorations committee for a holiday party at a local children's hospital. Most schools did food drives or toy drives around the holidays, but this year, their class had decided to work with sick kids instead. It had actually been Lilly's idea to throw a big holiday party at the hospital. She had even convinced Mr. Correlli to take on the role of Santa Clause.

"Wait, are you telling me you think he lives in one of those ice cube houses?" Miley laughed.

"Are you telling me the two of you actually think Santa lives somewhere? Like you still believe in Santa?" Oliver cut in, eyeing the two of them in surprise. He walked across the tiled floor and joined them at the table, popping the top on his diet soda.

"No…" Lilly started, pausing to steal a sip of his drink, "I just meant that if Santa was, you know, a real person, and actually living at the North Pole, it would be logical for him to live in an igloo." She nodded her head, passing the soda can back to her boyfriend before adding, "besides, I'm not the one who stays up till dawn every Christmas eve waiting to hear reindeer on the roof, am I?" She gave Oliver a pointed look, but he just slumped in his seat and drank his soda.

"I don't think it's logical at all," Miley protested.

"Why not?" Lilly asked, starting to flip through one of the magazine's Miley had purchased to give them ideas.

"Because that's so…. White and boring. Santa should live with bright colors and candy and cookies and lots of holly." Miley's eyes were as bright as the colors she talked about as she spoke and envisioned trays of gingerbread cookies and peppermint candy canes like the holiday displays at the mall.

"Oh my god. You were one of those kids who thought Santa Clause lived in, like, a giant gingerbread house or something and smelled like sugar and pine trees all the time!"

"Who doesn't think that way about the guy magically giving the whole world presents?"

"Well, not everyone celebrates Christmas, so he wouldn't have to go everywhere," Oliver cut in. Both girls glared at him, but he ignored them to continue, "and I think we should get some fake snow, you know draw on the windows and stuff, that would be cool."

Lilly turned back to Miley saying, "If anything, Saint Nick would live in an igloo. The Eskimos have been using them forever. They're insulated against the cold, sturdy-"

"And where would he build his toys?" Miley cut her off. "Would he have another giant igloo for all of the elves to work in?"

While the two girls continued to debate the finer points of Father Christmas's living arrangements, Oliver decided to take matters into his own hands, cutting strips of construction paper, and stapling them together in a paper chain. He knew that Lilly could argue about the dome shaped houses made of ice blocks and snow for days if she needed to. He had heard all of this before. The chain was over three feet long before Miley or Lilly noticed what he was doing.

"What is that?" Lilly asked him as he slipped another strip of paper through a ring, stapling the ends together with a click.

"This? Oh, it's just a decoration for the sick kids you're supposed to be cheering up," Oliver remarked off hand, picking up another strip of paper and repeating the process. "No big deal."

"Isn't it kind of long?" Miley wondered.

"I'm thinking it's going to go around the whole ceiling of the room we'll be in." Click.

"It is?" Miley picked up one end, stretching it out, eyeing the different shades of "white" throughout the chain.

"Yes." Click.

"But-" Lilly started to say.

"It doesn't matter what you guys think the Big Man lives in." Click. "The committee already decided on a winter wonderland theme since Santa is going to be visiting anyway." Click. "The room is going to look like it snowed." Click. "So, start cutting out snowflakes." The click that followed the last sentence was louder than the rest and Oliver's jaw was set stubbornly.

The girls watched him staple a few more strips together before exchanging amused looks.

"I'll just go get some more white paper from upstairs," Miley told Lilly, rolling her eyes.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Lilly turned to Oliver. "That was very, um, forceful of you there." She smiled as he continued to staple, leaning a little closer to him as he tried to ignore her and keep working. "You're kind of cute when you get annoyed with me and Miley."

"Only kind of?" he asked jokingly. Click.

Lilly slid her chair closer to him so that her leg was leaning against his. "Well…"

When Miley returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, she shouted, "what is wrong with the two of you? Can't I leave you alone for five minutes?"

***

_Twenty-five years old, visiting family in Montana_

"I don't want to talk about it, okay? We're here for Lee's birthday, mom. Just forget it."

"I know, but Oliver's been coming to Christmas and birthdays and everything with you the last couple of years. I just wanted to make sure everything's alright."

"Everything's fine," Lilly told her mother through gritted teeth. "I'm going to go put my stuff in upstairs."

The only cousin Lilly had ever been able to get along with was turning 16 in two days, and Lilly was not about to let her own problems get in the way of that party. Every girl deserved a great sweet sixteen, even if it was snowing outside and the wind chill just kept dropping lower and lower. Her aunt's house was packed to the rafters, so Lilly would be rooming with the birthday girl herself, something she didn't mind in the least.

She dragged her bag behind her up the staircase and down the hall with the bright green carpet. Carpet that always looked bright no matter how many people seemed to walk across it with snow sloughing off the bottom of their jeans. She stepped into Lee's room, and was in for a bit of a shock when it was ceiling to floor purple.

"Oh my-"

"Isn't it great?" A girl even shorter, and even blonder than Lilly hopped off the bed that was covered in a lavender bed spread and grabbed her bag from her, tossing it next to her dressing.

"It's very… berry like," Lilly responded, searching for the right words.

"I know, it's awesome! Mom let me redecorate as one of my birthday presents!" Lee was practically jumping up and down now, her curls bouncing around her.

Taking off her coat and her scarf, Lilly draped them over the desk chair in the room.

"So, what's the plan, roomy?"

And for the next 24 hours, she was able to easily put Oliver out of her mind. She ignored the fact that he decided he wasn't ready for a commitment, that he wasn't ready to move in with her, and focused solely on her cousin, and making her birthday party amazing. But, when she hit that 24 hours, and the entire family was out for dinner, talking about the space rented downtown for dancing and music, Lilly couldn't help remembering the disaster her own sixteenth birthday was, and missing her best friend, who also happened to be the boyfriend who wasn't ready to commit.

"What's wrong?" Lee whispered, sitting back down from a trip to the restroom. They were in a small Mexican restaurant that was crowded with people. Everyone else was drinking too much wine or talking to loudly, or a combination of the two.

"Nothing," Lilly said brightly, breaking off a piece of a tortilla chip and crunching on it eagerly.

"Lilly, you are my absolute favorite cousin, so if something's wrong, like your boyfriend not being here, I'd like to know about it."

She sighed, swallowing the salty bit of the chip she had been chewing, and finally whispered back, "We had a fight, that's all."

"About what," Lee prompted, elbowing her under the table.

"I don't know if we should be talking about this…"

"If you can't tell me, who can you tell?"

Lilly glanced over at her, then staring down at her own lap, mumbled, "I asked him to move in with me, but he isn't ready to."

"He isn't ready to? He's practically been dating you since birth," Lee joked.

"I know!" Lilly exclaimed, then laughed when some of their other relatives looked over at them.

"We're talking about surfboards," Lee explained smoothly. She always had been a better liar than her older cousin.

"Oh, Lilly," her aunt said, "I hope you didn't get Lee a surfboard for her birthday. You know, being away from the ocean and all makes her a little depressed."

"No, don't worry, nothing like that," Lilly smiled.

"What did you get me?"

"I'm not telling you. You'll just have to wait and see." She crossed her legs under the table and smiled, before returning to their earlier conversation. "I don't get why he freaked out. It's not like he doesn't spend almost all of his time at my apartment anyway. He makes everything so complicated."

Lee giggled, then said very sternly, " A relative of mine, one of my favorites you know, once told me that if it isn't complicated, you're probably not soul mates."

"I'm pretty sure I was talking about a movie when I said that to you."

"Doesn't matter, it still applies."

They were interrupted by a waiter approaching the table asking for a Miss Truscott. Lilly and her mother both answered.

"Um, Lilly Truscott," he amended, "you have a call at the bar."

Lilly followed him, winding her way through tables of people eating spicy tacos and drinking giant margaritas to reach the polished wooden bar.

"Hello?" she asked after bringing the white phone up to her ear.

"Don't hang up!" were the first words she heard from the slightly panicked voice on the other end of the line.

"Oliver?" Every little bit of their fight rushed back to her and she decided that none of it mattered.

"I just wanted to say-" he started.

"No, look, I'm sorry if it was too fast. I just thought it would make everything easier, you know? We're always together and you spend most nights at my place. I wasn't thinking about how pushy I sounded. I don't want to like, buy a house together or anything. I just thought it made sense. But if you don't want to, I get it, I just don't want to fight with you and-"

"Lilly would you please shut up for a second?" Oliver cut her off loudly.

"Oh, okay." Lilly waited for him to keep going.

"Would you just come outside?" he finally asked.

"Outside, of the restaurant? Here?"

"Yeah."

"You're here?"

"I might be."

Lilly dropped the phone, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder where the rest of her family was sitting before rushing out the front doors of the restaurant into the cold. She neglected her coat, hoping that at least her boots would keep her feet warm. Lilly skidded to a stop on the sidewalk to see Oliver standing right in front of her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him, still not believing that he was, in fact, standing in front of a tiny Mexican restaurant in the middle of nowhere with her.

"I'm pretty sure I was invited." His hands were shoved in his pockets and he took a small step closer to her. "Come on, I want to show you something."

He walked away without waiting for an answer, and she had no choice but to follow him, her hair starting to whip around in the wind. He led her around the edge of the building, to the back entrance of the parking lot, where the snow plow had piled up a lot of the frozen material when it came through the streets this morning. Only there wasn't just a big pile of snow there anymore. It was packed in a spherical shape with rectangles carved all around it, and a bright splash of purple paint thrown on the top.

"I didn't have enough to make all of your snow purple, so I did what I could. Don't worry," Oliver cautioned her, "the paint's actually eco-friendly."

"But, how? Why did you?" Lilly couldn't even get the words out as she walked closer to the make-shift igloo. It was more like a sculpture than a living structure since there was no entrance, but it still looked amazingly cool.

"Wait!" Oliver grabbed her arm before she could get all the way around the snow. "I don't want to fight with you either. What you said did make sense. I just… I was scared. I'm not a grown up. Living with my girlfriend, that would make me a grown up. I'm sorry if you thought that I didn't want to live with you, or that it was too fast. It was just a small, quick, little freak out. But then, you wouldn't return my calls, so I couldn't tell you."

She smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess I can be a little dramatic sometimes."

"You? Dramatic? Never!" Oliver teased, his palm moving down from the spot on her arm to take her hand.

"But, why the igloo?"

Oliver led her around to the back of it. "You've wanted your very own little snow house since we were four. Now, even though I had a little help," he gestured to the paint and Lilly smiled, knowing where that had come from, "It's not exactly ready for us to move in."

"Move in?" Lilly laughed. "And us?"

When they reached the back, there was a patch with words painted in green, like cartoon slime, as he had told her twenty years ago, and the words were starting to melt away.

"Yeah. I mean, I know the igloo isn't a great idea in California, so I thought instead, maybe I could just move in with you and you could, you know-" Oliver broke off, pointing to the words on the back of the snow and Lilly leapt into his arms, kissing him fiercely. "Can I take that as a yes, or are you just really cold?" he joked.

"Both. Can we go inside now?"

Although the first 'M' may have turned into little more than frozen sludge, the back of the igloo said "Marry Me" in a very bold choice of slime green. And Lilly's love for "snow houses" was pretty much cemented.

***


	10. J is for jinxes and jelly doughnuts

**A/N: This was inspired by an episode of The Office, and a Jim and Pam storyline that I loved. Jim gets jinxed by Pam, and can't talk all day, and it drives her nuts. It's adorable, and you should watch it.**

J is for jinxes and jelly doughnuts.

Lilly huffed impatiently, blowing one of those annoying strands of blond hair out of her face that never seemed to stay put, no matter how tightly she pulled her hair back. It fell right back down across her eyes. She tossed her head a little and shook the strand to the side while she tried to concentrate on pouring sugar into the shakers in front of her.

This was her nightly routine now. By about eleven every night, the traffic in the diner slowed to a crawl and she filled ketchup bottles, salt shakers, refreshed sugar, checked to make sure there was plenty of ice in the cooler below the soda dispenser, napkins to roll the silverware, and pastries in the glass containers set up on the counter. Then she would study, highlighting in her texts or flipping through flashcards. By the time the club kids started coming in to sober up with a cup of coffee or chili cheese fries around two AM, she was ready for them. It didn't feel like she had only been doing this for a couple months. It felt like she had been doing this forever.

Of course, sometimes the routine was broken up when it was excruciatingly slow, like Wednesday nights. The middle of the week always seemed to be particularly empty, and it was her only 12 hour shift. Seven Wednesday night to seven Thursday morning. It would have been a killer if the other waitresses weren't hilarious, and if Oliver wasn't the person covering the counter. Besides, she only worked four days a week. She could handle one twelve hour shift in the middle of the week if it meant she got her weekends free. There were never more than five people working at the same time. The cook, at least two waitresses who also cleared their own dishes, a counter person who also loaded the industrial dishwasher, and then the all purpose employee, which was usually Lilly, taking care of all the random odd jobs and covering a few tables here and there when it picked up.

Because it was Wednesday, and because it was the middle of Spring Break week, today was a particularly dead night. It was only eight o'clock, not the usual eleven, and Lilly had already rolled every piece of silverware she could find, set the glass ketchup bottles to drain into one another at one end of the counter, wiped down every table about three times, swept the floor, and now she was done with the last of the sugar.

"Lilly, I'm takin' a smoke break," Vicki called to her from the kitchen, flashing the cigarette and lighter in her hand.

"Take your time," Lilly muttered, knowing that a "smoke break" meant the older woman would be gone for at least twenty minutes. She was divorced with three kids, and her smoke breaks were always used to call home and check on them. She usually had to spend about half of the break trying to diffuse some sort of argument between her younger twins, so they always ran long.

Vicki nodded her head, dark curls shaking around her and made a beeline for the tile through the kitchen and out the back door. Lilly headed back to her ketchup bottles and watched the thick red substance slowly slide down the side of one that was upside down, falling in small drops into the bottle it was balanced on top of. She sighed, bending at the waist to lean an elbow on the counter, propping her head up and eying her work.

The older couple that had been at one of the back booths sharing a piece of pie for dessert slid out of their seats, and ambled slowly up to the register just as Oliver came out of the kitchen doors with a stack of clean glasses. Lilly glanced over at the register, but she figured Oliver was closer, so she went back to watching her ketchup.

"How was the pie?" Oliver asked as he set the stack of glasses down and met them at the end of the counter.

"Excellent. You were right about the strawberry cream."

"Well, it's definitely one of my favorites," Oliver responded, easily punching buttons on the ancient machine to get their total.

"We'll be sure to try the apple crumble next week," the older man added, handing over a few bills as he spoke, then led his wife through the front glass doors, not bothering to wait for his change.

"Have a good night," Oliver called after them, taking the two dollars and change they always left behind and adding it to the shared tip jar.

Lilly let her gaze flick over to him occasionally while he stacked the glasses neatly by the soda fountain. When he finished, she straightened up, and headed over to clear off the only table that had been occupied for the last half hour. Two coffee cups, two water glasses, one plate, two forks. It was the same every Wednesday night. Small diners like this always had regulars. She crumbled up the napkins they had used, dropping them into one of the empty water glasses with the used creamer containers, stacking the glass inside the other, and hooking her other fingers through the handles of the coffee cups, using her free hand to grab the plate. Easy as pie.

When she dumped the waste into the garbage can behind the counter, next to the door to the kitchen, she saw Oliver head over to the table with a spray bottle and a towel.

"I could have done that," Lilly called to him, dropping the dishes into the empty plastic tub that would eventually be carted to the dishwasher in the back.

"Yeah, I know, but I didn't think you'd want to leave your ketchup unattended for too long," Oliver joked.

"Right, cause those glass bottles are going to run away if I don't keep an eye on them," Lilly remarked, the sentence punctuated by a rolling of the eyes. She could hear Oliver chuckling to himself while he wiped down the surface of the table, and she came around to the customer's side of the counter, sitting down on the stool closest to him. "We so should've gone somewhere fun for Spring Break," she told him, leaning back against the counter.

"We?" Oliver questioned, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"Why not? We could have gone to Mexico with Miley…" Lilly's voice trailed off while she thought about the possibilities, her eyes glued to Oliver's back.

"I'm pretty sure you're the one who didn't want Miley paying your airfare to Cancun," Oliver shot back before he turned around, meeting Lilly's eyes. "I'm only here because I have an extra credit paper due Monday to bring my grade up in that anthropology class you talked me into taking with you. I have to create a proposal for my very own study of a group cultural group I find interesting, all so I can sit next to you in class. And you get to stay here with me and listen to me complain about it." He walked toward Lilly before adding, "Face it Lils, hanging out with me at a boring diner is much more fun than dancing on bar tops with a bunch of drunk coeds or waking up next to some guy whose name you can't remember."

"I think I would at least remember his name," Lilly joked, spinning around on the stool when he walked around the counter.

"Well, you could be spending your time holding Miley's hair back while she revisits her dinner from the night before in some grungy bathroom on the beach where you aren't supposed to drink the water," Oliver added.

They both paused to picture that, then muttered "gross" simultaneously.

"Jinx," Lilly quickly cut him off, "you owe me a jelly doughnut."

She knew the phrase was generally, "jinx, you owe me a coke," but owing someone a coke was too easy. They had given up on that exchange when they were 12, always using the first food that popped into their heads. Oliver had once told Lilly she owed him a chicken sandwich with peanut sauce, and Lilly had once asked for a slice of chocolate cheese cake with caramel swirls. They weren't afraid to get creative.

Oliver immediately clamped his mouth shut and shook his head, a smirk gracing his lips.

"You know, if you don't get me a jelly doughnut, you can't talk. And then what are you going to do all night?" Lilly eyed him determinedly, but Oliver just shook his head with a small smile, pulling out a text book from under the counter so he could work on research for his paper. "You're going to get really bored, not being able to say anything to your best friend in the entire world," She goaded, staying perched on the stool, but Oliver simply flipped through a few pages of his book, grabbing a pen from a cup they kept next to the cash register.

Lilly sighed, tapping her finger tips on the surface of the counter. She sat there for a few minutes, flicking her gaze over to Oliver, then to the front door. A group of people who were probably a little younger than herself walked by the glass, tossing popcorn at one another. They must have just left the movie theater up the block. Apparently, high school kids didn't have a lot of big Spring Break plans either. As their voices drifted away, she directed her gaze back to the row of ketchup bottles directly in front of her. The only noise in the building was the whining of the ancient air conditioning, Oliver's pen scratching notes into his book, and the tones from a late night radio talk show drifting in from the kitchen.

Chip, whose real name was probably Charles or something just as boring, was the cook, and he loved his late night talk shows. When Lilly finished filling ketchup bottles a while later, her attempts to get Oliver to talk to her ignored, she headed back to the kitchen to chat with Chip and see just what was going on in the world of late night talk radio.

Chip was settled on a chair, peeling potatoes over a garbage can, tossing the potatoes into a large plastic container half full of water. He was also chuckling to himself at whatever "Midnight Mindy" was telling her current caller. Her show must have just started.

"You're starting on the breakfast potatoes already? Isn't it a little early?" Lilly asked, edging her way over to one of the ovens to see if that was, in fact, apple pie she was now smelling. It was, and the scent would probably be filling the front area of the diner, and Oliver would be itching to come back here soon enough. Of course, he couldn't since he was the only one up front.

"It is, but if I already have them peeled and in water than I can just slice them up and throw them on the griddle in the morning. We haven't really had breakfast rushes lately anyway."

Lily watched him peel a potato from end to the other without any breaks, nodding her head.

"So," she asked, "what does Mindy say tonight?"

"Ah, the theme is exes. You know, how long to get over them. Whether you should get back together with them."

"Mmm. Anything interesting?" She leaned against one of the stainless steel countertops, grabbing a strawberry from a bowl on the lowest shelf that she was sure was going to be used for some other kind of pie.

"Nah. All these women whining about how they miss the guys who did them wrong. Some of its so pathetic, you have to laugh."

"What? That's so mean!"

"I mean," Chip clarified, "it's funny to listen to these women who get cheated on or ignored over and over wondering whether they should go back to these guys. Shouldn't they know?"

"Well, Chef Chip," Lilly teased, "sometimes you just can't help falling in love with the crazy ones. I mean, I know a guy who happens to be falling for a woman twice his age who already has three kids, and he follows her around like a puppy dog." She popped the strawberry into her mouth and dodged the potato peel that came flying her way.

"I am not in love with her."

"Whatever."

Another potato peel was tossed in her direction, so Lilly laughed and went back out to the front room. Oliver was still there at the counter, scratching out notes, his brow furrowed. No one had come through the glass door in her absence, and she gave a little sigh as he flipped the page. She walked by him quickly, heading straight to the end of the counter she had claimed for those ketchup bottles and stood there silently, hands on hips, trying to think of something else to do. Her eyes narrowed when she spotted a salt shaker that was only half filled. She thought Oliver had done salt and pepper earlier, but apparently, he decided to ignore them. Well, fine with her. More to do.

Lilly stalked around the counter, heading to the very front of the diner. She grabbed the small glass shakers from the first three tables, then walked all the way back to her end of the counter, setting them down with a small clinking sound. She repeated the process five more times, making sure to get every single container, before sweeping all of the ones along the counter down to her end as well. Each time she passed the young man behind the counter, she cleared her throat as though about to say something, but then continued on her way, no words used. Oliver continued to work in silence as well.

When the last of the shakers were on the counter, a small huff of annoyance escaped. The larger canisters with the salt and pepper in them were under the counter, at the back of a cabinet, a cabinet that happened to be just in front of Oliver's knees. Lilly glanced over at him, then back at the tiny glass assortment she had in front of her, then over at him again. She could see one of the corners of his mouth tilted up in a smirk, like he knew what she was thinking. It wasn't like she was the one who couldn't talk. She tapped her foot a few times in thought, then walked right up to him.

"Excuse me," Lilly snapped, her hand already reaching in front of him for the handle to the cabinet. Oliver smiled another small smile and backed up, but only just enough for her to open the cabinet door. She gave another little huff and reached to the back to find the containers, then took a peek at his paper to see how his notes were coming along. Discovering he had managed to jot down an entire abstract for his mock project proposal already, and that he had a few paragraphs to go along with it, Lilly felt a grin of her own begin to form. At the rate he was going, there would be nothing left for him to do in another hour or so, and they were stuck here until dawn. He would talk. She knew it.

She happily made her way to her own end of the counter and got to work. She casually funneled salt into three of the glass cylinders, methodically moving them into the "done" section of the counter. Then, she snuck a glimpse in Oliver's direction. He was chewing on the end of his pen, looking at the book in confusion.

"What's the matter Ollie? Having some trouble?"

He bit his lip after pulling the pen from his mouth, then shrugged his shoulders with a sheepish grin.

"Well," Lilly needled, "maybe if you tell me about it, I could help you out."

Oliver laughed silently and shook his head, shutting the book, and grabbing a new one from the shelf where he had stored his belongings, his few sheets of paper left alone on the counter.

Lilly just rolled her eyes and went back to her salt. Four bottles later, Oliver had the same look of confusion settled across his features, but Lilly didn't say a word. Homework was not the way to get him to talk. She knew that. She was just going to have to wait for another opportunity. Working a little too quickly, she moved on the the pepper sooner than she would have liked, and Vicki came back inside as Lilly began to funnel the black substance into containers.

"Ugh. If I'd known kids were going to be this much trouble, I never would have had any." She lounged against the door jamb, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two college kids at either end of the counter. Neither of them said anything, so she continued, "My oldest is fourteen, and she's no end of trouble."

"I remember being fourteen," Lilly muttered, more to herself than Vicki. "I don't remember being trouble though."

She glanced down at the other end of the counter when a sound somewhere between a cough a laugh came from Oliver. He remembered being fourteen too. It wasn't all that long ago. And as he remembered it, Lilly was always trouble. Had been as long as he'd known her, which was almost forever.

"What's that? You have something to say?" she asked him. But he just shook his head.

"Something going on here I should know about?" Vicki asked with narrowed eyes, her arms crossing in front of her.

"What do you mean?" Lilly questioned innocently, filling another pepper shaker, and moving it to her done section after quickly screwing the top back on.

Vicki looked back and forth again, but Oliver's eyes were back on his book, and Lilly's were back on her pepper, so she didn't pursue it, just kept talking about all the trouble her daughter was causing. Lilly tuned the older woman out as she poured another mound of pepper. Vicki liked to talk, and normally, so did she, but she was determined to get Oliver to talk to her. Neither of them had ever cracked under the pressure of a jinx before. She wasn't altogether certain of just what it was you were supposed to do if a person couldn't stay silent through the time period of the jinx. Of course, she would just be satisfied with winning. The longest one of them had ever gone without talking was a couple of hours, and if she was honest with herself, she wasn't sure she could make it till dawn without hearing his dumb jokes or his sly comments. She just wasn't sure what the right trigger was going to be though. There had to be a way to rattle him enough to get him to say something.

When she was done with her project, and all of the shakers were back in their rightful places, Vicki had paused in the story about her daughter's first boyfriend and was saying something about inventory in the back pantry. Right. They always ordered the cleaning supplies and dry ingredients on Thursday, which meant figuring out what they needed the day before.

"I'll do it!" Lilly volunteered eagerly before adding, "you should tell Oliver more about your daughter though. He's just a fountain of knowledge when it comes to teenage girls." She grabbed the clipboard from the other side of the register, shooting Oliver a gleeful smile as she traipsed to the very back of the diner, through the kitchen and into one of the supply rooms.

On her way she heard something about the daughter being involved with the "wrong crowd" and she suppressed a giggle. Maybe Oliver would get so fed up with hearing about the daughter's supposed angsty issues, he would crack. That thought brought a frown though. If she was back in the supply room checking on bags of rice and jars of spice and sauce, she wouldn't know if he cracked. He could just go right back to not talking when she got out there.

Nah.

He was too competitive. Besides, they never lied to one another. If he talked, he would tell her.

He didn't talk. Not during her entire shift. She did the whole supply room, making notes on what they needed to reorder, and was back on the main floor in time for the few locals who were still in town to get back from the clubs. Lilly had no idea how he did it, but he managed to finish his paper, listen to Vicki's stories, even wait on a few tables, all without uttering a single word. The few girls he waited on slyly passed on how cute he was, and how mysterious, when Lilly cashed them out. She responded with a tight smile, one that was almost a grimace, and a forced out "have a nice night." Even cute girls didn't get him to talk.

Lilly even let a couple of drunk guys get overly friendly with her. Oliver was always protective. She thought that would break him for sure. Nothing. He glared in their direction, and his look was dark enough that the guys didn't hit on her, get to close to her, or attempt to get her number again. He didn't even have to open his mouth to put a stop to that.

When the club kids were cleared out, heading home to comfy beds, or at least frat houses with comfy rugs on the bathroom floors, Lilly tried another tactic, pulling Vicki into a conversation about the dangers of drinking and drugs as a teen, trying to drag another story out of her. It didn't work in quite the way she anticipated.

Wiping down the seats in one of the booths, Lilly listened to Vicki's fear that her daughter would go down the "wrong path," that she was already hooked on something. Lilly had met Vicki's daughter, and knew there was no way she was going down any path that didn't involve an Ivy League education and the scholarship to go with it. She was too determined to not screw up her chance to get away from her mother to let something as trivial as drug use get in the way.

"Oliver, maybe you should tell Vicki about that warning video your mom used to make us watch at the end of the year in high school every year? You know, the one with the guy and that program?"

Behind Vicki's back, Oliver gave Lilly a look that told her he knew just what she was up to, but that he wasn't budging. When Vicki turned to him with wide eyes, waiting for the story, Oliver put a very serious expression on his face, then scrunched his nose up as though he was in pain, even getting his eyes to water a little bit before he shook his head and walked quickly into the bathroom, his head down.

"Wow," Vicki gave a low whistle, "I guess that video really made an impression on him, huh? Too hard for him to talk about?"

"Yeah, that must be it," Lilly commented dryly, throwing her towel down on the booth, and following him. "I'm gonna make sure he's alright."

When she reached the door to the men's restroom, she brought her hand up as though she was going to knock, then decided against it. Catching him unaware might be better. He might yell at her, confront her, say something. She didn't care if it was to tell her how stupid and immature she was being tonight. She just wanted him to say something, anything, to her. Dropping her hand to the doorknob, her fingers curled around, and twisted easily, pushing the wooden panel open. When she stepped inside, Oliver wasn't even phased. Just standing there with his arms crossed, leaning against the sink.

"Okay, I think this has gone on long enough. I'm giving you a pass. You can talk."

He didn't say a word, just stood there.

"You're not going to talk?"

He shook his head, and Lilly sighed.

Hands on hips, Lilly asked, "are you really going to do this until seven?"

Oliver shrugged, keeping his face carefully expressionless.

"How long are you going to keep not talking to me?" she asked shrilly, not caring that she was approaching the drama queen territory of her sixteen-year-old days. She missed hearing his voice. She missed arguing with him where he actually argued back. She missed laughing at him when he said stupid things, and she missed pretending that she didn't find his jokes funny.

Oliver uncrossed his arms, bracing his palms against the porcelain of the sink now, shrugging again, eyes widening comically.

Lilly fought down a smile at his attempt to look innocent. He was funny. Even if she didn't want to admit it. Even if he still wasn't speaking. "Fine. I guess I'll just stop talking to you too then. Might as well. Not like this night doesn't already suck." She said the words sarcastically as she spun on her heel and headed out, but she was getting tired of playing the game. Maybe they were too competitive for their own good.

As her shift came to a close with the sunrise, Lilly gathered up her belongings, tossing the few singles she had earned from tips into the bottom of her bag. She punched out on the old fashioned time clock, thrusting her card back into its slot as though it was responsible for the night she was having, and exited through the front of the diner instead of the back like she usually did, turning right on the sidewalk, and beginning the lonely walk back to her apartment. She usually walked with Oliver, they lived in the same building after all, but since he was holding on to his jinxed voice box a little too firmly for her liking, she doubted walking with him would really make a difference. When she felt an hand on her arm, she jumped almost a foot in the air, lunging to the side to get out of the grasp of whomever was grabbing her.

Oliver stood behind her, a little alarmed, his hands up in self defense.

"Oh, it's you," she said flatly.

Oliver gestured behind him, as though asking if she wanted to walk back the other way, the opposite direction of her apartment.

"Look, Oliver, no offense, but I'm tired, and I don't want to go somewhere with someone who isn't even talking to me anymore. I gave you an out, and you didn't want it. You didn't say anything to me all night, and I'm sick of trying to get you to talk. I'm going home to crash. Tomorrow, or today, I guess, you can call me when you want to be my best friend again, okay?" She knew it was harsh, but her bad mood wasn't letting her think rationally, so she didn't wait for a response, just left him there in front of the diner while she headed home.

She had showered and changed into pajamas, and was just crawling into bed when there was a knock at the door. Lilly buried her head under a pillow, trying to ignore it, but the knock came again, louder and faster than before. She burrowed further into the blankets, just wanting to sleep for a few hours before she had to get ready for afternoon classes. When it happened again, she determinedly squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to block it out. It wasn't even eight in the morning. No one came over that early. When she heard a key in the lock though, she knew who it was. Only one person actually had a spare key. Well, one person who was in town anyway. As the door creaked open she gave a muffled shout of "go away!" It didn't make a difference. Footsteps crossed her apartment, entered her bedroom, and a weight settled on the edge of the bed. The pillow was pulled from over her head, and she pushed down the blanket, peering up at him.

"What?" she groaned.

In response, Oliver thrust a white paper bag with a pink logo on it into her field of vision.

"Still not talking I see," she remarked, sitting up, and taking the bag from his outstretched hand. She peered inside, and then started to laugh.

Oliver raised his eyebrows, waiting to see if he was forgiven.

"Yeah, okay," Lilly giggled, "I accept the damn doughnut. Now, will you please talk to me?" She tossed the bag onto her night stand, not even really caring about the deep fried dough with the jelly in the center.

Oliver collapsed onto the bed as though exhausted, making her scoot over towards the other side. "Do you have any idea how much work it is to not talk to you? I don't think we should do this whole jinx thing anymore."

"I told you it was over, that you could talk. You were the one who gave me the silent treatment," Lilly pointed out.

"I know, but that wasn't fair. You didn't get what you asked for yet." He turned his head to look at her, kicking off his shoes as he did so and she had to smile.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know about you, but I just worked the worst 12 hour shift ever, so I want to hang out with my best friend."

She narrowed her eyes at him as he pulled a blanket up over himself and reclined against her pillows.

"You didn't shower. You're going to get my clean sheets all gross. They're going to smell like cheese fries."

"Are you kicking me out?"

"Of course not. I'm warning you though, I might fall asleep on you."

Lilly readjusted her position, using him as a pillow instead, and they laid there in silence for a few minutes before Oliver asked her, "did you really have to use Vicki in your little scheme to get me to talk? That woman never shuts up."

"Sorry," she mumbled against his chest. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, you know?"

"Mmm..." He closed his eyes before continuing, "she thinks I'm very sensitive now though."

"Yeah, that whole fake crying thing, that was a moment of genius, by the way."

"You impressed with my quick thinking?" Oliver teased.

"More like you thinking at all," she joked, then squirmed away when he tried to tickle her in response. "Okay, okay," Lilly gasped when his hands connected with her sides, "I was impressed. Now can we please just go to sleep? I'll skip my first class to hang out with you, but I'm so tired."

She looked up at him with pleading eyes, and he caved.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

***


	11. K is for kaleidoscope

K is for kaleidoscope.

It started off simply enough. An assignment for English class. She thought it was one of those easy getting to know you exercises teachers did on the first day. She wasn't anticipating a sleepless night or a sudden worry for the future.

"Alright," the teacher addressed the group on the first day of their junior year, "I took roll, I've seen all of your bright, smiling faces that would rather be at the beach, and you've all got a copy of my syllabus for the semester so, let's get down to a little business, shall we?"

Thirty-six pairs of adolescent eyes stared back at the woman warily. It was the first day. On the first day all you normally had to do was introduce yourself, talk a little about your summer maybe. Not actually work. That was reserved for the second day right up through the day before the last day of school. The first and last days were supposed to be work free.

She removed the cap from a marker and walked casually up to the white board at the front of the classroom.

"Complete this sentence for me."

Across the board in a flowing script she wrote the words 'I am _' and then turned back to the class.

"Complete it ten times, as many different ways as you can. And be honest."

She waited expectantly as everyone looked at the board, not sure what to do.

"You all do know how to write, don't you? I don't care if you use adjectives, nouns. The sentences can be short or long. Just tell me ten things you are. Scratch that. Not 'things.' In my classroom, 'things' is a dirty word. I don't ever want to hear it or read it. Be specific. What you like, what you dislike, who you belong to, what defines you."

Nodding her head as sheets of paper appeared and the ends of pens were chewed, she sat down at her desk to wait.

"You have ten minutes. Go."

There were a few sighs, a lot of fingers and toes tapping in thought, and a whole lot of lip chewing. When Lilly glanced around, she was surprised at how focused some people seemed. Todd had his tongue held between his teeth as he carefully printed letters on the page with a bright green marker. Sarah was scribbling words out as though her life depended on it. Even Oliver and Miley had their heads bent over their desks, methodically listing traits they believed defined them. She wondered if Miley was writing down that she was a secret pop star. Probably not. That was a pretty big defining part of her personality sometimes though.

Lilly tapped the end of her pen against the page, small blue dots appearing along the edge where the ink leaked out. In block letters, she jotted down "I am" on the top line before numbering one to ten on the succeeding lines, but she didn't add any descriptions. Her mind was a blank. Who was she? What defined her?

I'm athletic, Lilly thought, but pushed the idea away. That was such a small piece. She might have enjoyed sports, but she wasn't really an athlete. She had quit playing on school teams a long time ago. Plus, there was that perception that sporty girls weren't girly girls. And she had shifted to somewhere in the middle over the years. So, that didn't really fit.

I'm a teenager, she thought next. That didn't work either though. She would only be a teen for a few more years, and then she would be in her twenties. Age couldn't really define you, could it? That didn't seem fair. Every minute you were a minute older than the one before, and in that minute, everything could change. Nope. Wouldn't work.

I'm blond? Nah. Not worth the stereotype.

I'm a student? Would she always be a student though? Her pen hovered over the page. People said you spent your whole life learning, but it wasn't the same as studying, as writing answers down on test sheets, as being lectured by someone older or wiser than you. The pen was pulled away and she tapped the end of it against her chin, not sure just what she wanted to say.

Before she knew it, time was up, and her classmates were being asked to volunteer their answers. Staring at the lined page in front of her, she hesitatingly wrote down one word next to the number one: Lilly. It was all she could come up with.

"Todd? Give us one of your sentences."

"I am, like, totally, addicted to surfing," he answered loudly, and there were a few laughs. Everyone knew that.

"You're 'like' addicted to surfing or you are addicted?"

"Huh?" A confused expression crossed his face and there were a few more laughs.

"We'll work on that another time. How about someone else," the teacher continued, trying to suppress a smile. "Sarah?"

"I'm an environmentalist."

"Good. Very straightforward. Miley?"

"I'm from Tennessee."

Lilly was surprised to hear that as Miley's pick. She didn't talk about her home state much anymore, and a lot of the Southern sayings her friends had found so strange when she first moved to California had tapered off. She must still be feeling that connection to her roots from the trip to see her grandmother a few months back.

It went on like that for the next few minutes. There were a lot of comments about people being sons or daughter, brothers or sisters, and Lilly began to wonder why she hadn't thought of any of those terms. She was slowly losing focus on the voices around her when her name was called from the front of the room.

"How about you, Lilly?"

"Um, I'm Lilly," she said with a shrug of her shoulders and a twist to her mouth.

"Did anyone else write down their name?" No hands rose, no heads nodded an affirmative, and the teacher frowned. Lilly wondered if she had done something wrong. Nine more blank lines told her she might have. "I didn't think so. Not many people pick their name as a choice, but it is one of the things that makes you most unique, isn't it?" She raised an eyebrow at her students. "Your name encompasses all of who you are, whether you love it or hate it. Even if there are fifty other people in your school with the same name, it means something different to each person who carries it." She nodded her head giving Lilly a smile. "Bold choice, Miss Truscott. I like it."

Lilly gave an answering smile of her own, sitting up a little straighter in her chair. Maybe she hadn't done anything wrong after all.

"Now, the reason I had you all do this little exercise was to get you thinking. I like it when you all think. In another year you will all, hopefully, be applying to colleges, and those entrance essays won't write themselves. Some entrance essays are easy to... let's say fudge, your answer. Others require you to really know yourself and dig deeper before you give a response. Those are the kinds of essays you should answer."

That was when she gave them their first real assignment. They were to write an essay on themselves. She didn't care how long it was. She didn't care if they acted like it was a journal entry or an article for the local paper. They could mix poetry with prose if they wanted to. She just wanted them to be truthful and dig deep. It was a jumping off point for all of the practice college application essays she was going to make them do this year.

"Every week, I will provide you with a new topic, and you will write me an essay. They will be due Monday at the beginning of class. So, for those of you who like to procrastinate, I'm throwing you the weekend as a bonus. For this Monday, I just want you to fill in the blank." She gestured to the white board behind her after she spoke. "That way, you will have a better idea of how to answer your questions in the future. I want you to always give me a truthful answer, not the answer you think the person reading your essay wants to hear. Got it?" She waited for thirty-six heads to acknowledge her question before she went on, "Good. You can go ahead and start planning your response out now if you want to. Take the rest of the class to do it. Tomorrow we'll get to literature."

After that announcement, she settled into her desk chair and began flipping through the pages of a yellow legal pad. Almost every line had something written on it. Probably notes about the next assignment, Lilly thought to herself. There was a low murmur throughout the class as people began whispering to their neighbors, wanting to know what everyone else was writing about. Lilly tapped her pen on her paper a few more times, then folded the sheet in half so no one would be able to see its contents, and slipped the entire notebook inside her bag. She had absolutely no idea what she was going to write about.

On Wednesday, Lilly still had no idea. She dodged the question of who she was when Miley asked her, always changing the subject. Miley had apparently decided to write about being a southern girl versus being a California girl. When Lilly asked Oliver, he joked that he was going to try to figure out why he fell down so much. He couldn't decide if it was because he was always on guard, waiting to be attacked by his little brother, or if he didn't have a great sense of balance because his dad had always been so overprotective that Oliver was used to having someone else holding his hand outside his own house. He didn't look her in the eye as he made the joke though, so Lilly knew he wasn't seriously considering that.

Thursday at the counter at Rico's, Lilly heard Sarah give an entire speech about how being eco-friendly was the major defining characteristic of her life since her family had gone green when she was eight, and she was, in her words, Mother Nature's apprentice. Lilly was fairly certain Sarah would ace the paper, no problem. If her speech was any indication, she probably could have penned her own novel.

Friday night, and Lilly was starting to get antsy. She only had two days left to decide who she was, and what about her was important enough to put down on paper. She decided to get the opinions of the people that knew her best. It was worth a shot, right?

Walking into the dining room of the house on her way out the door, Lilly saw her mom with file folders all over the place.

"Working?" Lilly asked.

"Always," Heather responded with a smile. "I'm going to get that promotion."

"So, are you too busy for me to ask you a question?" She ran the tip of one of her fingers across the top of a chair as she spoke, too sure she would be squirming to sit down in a seat.

"No, go right ahead." Even though she was smiling, Heather's eyes were still on the forms in front of her.

"We have to do this essay explaining who we are, and I just wondered..."

"Who I think you are?"

"Well, yeah." Lilly nodded, then chewed on the corner of her mouth as she waited for an answer.

"I think," Heather started, then sighed, placing both of hands palms down on the table before she looked up at her, "I think you are an incredibly determined person. You never give up, no matter what it takes. Headstrong. Maybe even a little too stubborn. Look how many times you got in trouble sneaking in to see Hannah Montana. You never stopped trying to see her though. Or, you remember all of those times you fell when you were learning how to skateboard? I didn't even want you to skateboard, but you were so sure you could do it." Her eyes began to lose focus as she got lost in memories of Lilly as a little girl. "I remember you and Oliver coming home from the park one day, you had scrapes all up and down your arms, and I was so worried about you, but the two of you just kept laughing, trying to tell me about the jump you made after skidding on the concrete. It didn't matter how many times you messed up, just that you got it right once." She shook herself out of the memory and focused on Lilly again, "does that help?"

Lilly nodded. "Thanks mom." She then turned and headed out the back door.

"Going to Oliver's?"

"Yeah."

"Be home in time for dinner."

What her mother told her was helpful. Lilly just didn't think her entire paper could be about her willingness to make mistakes and her determination to complete a task. There had to be more to her than someone who was determined to get something right, but she hesitated to ask Oliver what he thought about her. She knew some of the responses she would get from him, and she didn't want the easily taken boyfriend route. She finally brought the topic up when they were stretched out on his bed, door mostly open for his father's peace of mind, watching a low budget horror movie.

"Did you finish your paper?"

"The one for English?"

"Yeah." Lilly glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was staring at the screen, but his hand moved closer to her, his fingers reaching out for hers.

"Almost done." Turning his attention from the television screen to her face, he asked "why?"

Lilly ignored the question, instead requesting to know what he wrote about.

"Didn't I already tell you?" he evaded, his eyes going back to the screen.

Just as his fingers slid between her own, Lilly drew her hand back, sitting up on the bed and sighing. He wasn't going to tell her, but she needed his help.

"I don't know what to write about," she admitted, drawing her knees up to her chest and circling her arms around them.

"Really? You actually don't have it done already?" He was smiling at her, but when she turned her head to him, she looked so miserable that the smile melted away. "Well... what do we know about you?" he teased.

"My name is Lilly. I'm a girl. My parents are divorced. I'm dating one of my best friends. I hate lima beans." She spit the facts out like they were answers to a test and shrugged before propping her chin on one of her knees. "But I don't know how to use any of that."

"Probably because that was a really short list." He smiled again now, sitting up and moving closer to her. "You want me to tell you who I think you are?"

She nodded and Oliver stroked her hair as he thought.

"Okay." He took a breath before starting. "You're smart. You always have an opinion and you always have something to say. You aren't afraid to let people know what you think, you know, confident. But," he hesitated here, not sure if she was going to like this, "you're really insecure sometimes too." When her eyes widened, he rushed to explain, "I mean, you're beautiful, but you're always checking to make sure your makeup's okay. You get embarrassed a lot easier than you used to. You compare yourself to other girls all the time... even though some people," he exaggerated an eye roll and pointed to himself, "might think you're kind of perfect."

Lilly giggled, then whispered, "thanks."

"Hey, it's the truth." Oliver shrugged, gently tugging on a strand of her hair before giving her a soft kiss. "But you probably don't want to write about how your boyfriend thinks you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen or anything like that."

"Yeah, that might not be the ideal paper," Lilly agreed, relaxing her grip on her knees and leaning against his shoulder. "My mom told me I'm determined, that I always make sure to reach a goal even if I make a thousand mistakes getting there."

Oliver nodded, not saying anything as he put an arm around her waist, pulling her closer and letting his fingers trace the pattern on the hem of her tee shirt.

"I was going to ask Miley, but I don't want her to yell at me for not starting the paper yet. She'd probably tell me I'm a giant procrastinator..." Lilly leaned her forehead into his neck, taking a deep breath, relaxing into his scent. "But I'm a really good friend too, right? I mean, whenever you guys need me, I'm there, as fast as possible."

"Yep." He leaned back a little further, trying to get back into his earlier position laying against his pillows, taking Lilly with him.

"But what about everything else? I can be nice, but I can be mean too. I hold grudges. But I forgive the people I care about. I-"

Oliver cut her off. "You are a giant contradiction."

"Hmm... you're right." Lilly thought about that for a second before curling into his side, moving her head down on his chest, her ear resting just over his heart. "Thanks. I think I have an idea now." She did, but it wasn't fully formed yet. There were just bits and pieces floating around at the back of her mind, pieces she couldn't put together yet.

"Glad to be of service," he responded. The hand that had been tracing the pattern of the shirt at her waist was gradually moving up higher and higher along her back. Lilly closed her eyes, intent on focusing only on the feeling of his fingers and being here with him, and she did for a while, tuning out the movie and listening to his heart beat just below her ear, but Oliver eventually had to go and tell her, "Your mom's going to be looking for you soon."

With a groan, Lilly sat back up, giving him a quick kiss goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

It wasn't until late Saturday night that Lilly was able to get to work though. She sat down at her small desk and made a real list this time, remembering what her mom and Oliver told her. The "list" became scribbles of phrases, pairs of contradicting terms, long lines of fact, and it became three pages long over the course of a couple of hours. She listed each part of her personality that she thought was relevant to the explanation she wanted to give, then stared at the pages for over another hour before even trying to write the essay. But it didn't look like an essay. It looked a whole lot like the random list on her sheets of paper. Sighing, Lilly shut down her computer, flicked off the light switch, and crawled into bed. A good night's sleep would help her better organize her thoughts. At least, that's what she told herself.

On Sunday, she holed herself up in her room, fully intending to finish all of her homework, a list of her various school assignments ready-made to allow her a strike through with each completion. She methodically made her way through all of the math problems she hadn't finished, started her history reading, and then had lunch. After that, she flicked through her Biology notes, memorized her Spanish vocabulary, and finished her history reading. By the time she ate dinner and showered, the only item left to cross off the list she had pinned to her bulletin board was to explain who she was in a way that made sense.

Her hair still dripping wet from her shower, Lilly sat at her desk, fingers poised over the keyboard of her computer, a blank word document open on the screen. The cursor kept blinking, taunting her, so she stared it down. The page wasn't going to stay blank. She had to do this assignment. She just had to figure out what to write.

"Okay, Truscott," she muttered, "tell me who you are." She glanced over at a small shelf on her wall, letting her hands fall to the sides of the keyboard, and spotted an object, just sitting there, completely minding its own business. It was a toy given to her when she was little, something that had managed to escape her periodic cleaning frenzies. Her grandfather had been the one to give it to her, telling her it was much more fun than any water gun would ever be. Lilly hadn't been so sure of that at the time, after all, she couldn't exactly squirt water at Oliver with the cardboard tube, but she did love it once he explained what it did. It sat there, watching her, just like the cursor on the screen, and she had an idea. The words flew from her finger tips and into the document.

***

Lilly Truscott: The Parts and The Whole

According to one source, 'Lillian' is unstoppable once she puts her mind to something, headstrong and stubborn, almost to a fault. Another trusted friend calls 'Lils' insecure, too concerned with what people think, with no reason to worry. But this source? She thinks Lilly is a bit of both. And a whole lot more.

This Truscott girl, she's blond, but not _a blond. _Sure, she might speak before she thinks on occasion. She might not get the joke right away. Some might call her a few crayons short of the Crayola box. (Of course those might be the same people who are missing a few of their own brain cells, too focused on being popular, their minds dying in clouds of cheap perfume.) But she isn't dumb by any means. She's on the honor roll at her school, you know. Always has been (Exception would have to be made for that one semester with that one math class. But it was only the once.) And she always comes up with foolproof (okay, mostly foolproof) plans to get her friends out of sticky situations, situations that are never her fault.

She also happens to be a bit of a procrastinator. She works best under pressures though. Those sticky situations I mentioned? The girl always comes through in the nick of time. Well, maybe all of her plans don't exactly _work, _but it's the thought that counts, or so she's been told. Combined with the need to put tasks off until the last minute is the obsession to have a plan, a neat and tidy formula for finishing up. Lilly is forever making lists, straightening up her workspace, and cleaning the room around her to keep her head clear.

Yes, Lillian likes to go by Lilly. Lillian is just a little too stuffy. A little too feminine for her taste. Besides, lilies are pretty cool flowers, why not borrow their name? Lilly has always been more comfortable outside than in a sitting room too, just like the nickname she adopted. She wouldn't want to be inside, stuck in a vase, when she could be out in the fresh air and the sunshine. Looking out a window isn't the same as feeling the heat of the sun on your skin. She prefers walking barefoot on the sand to padding around on cushy carpet. She likes changing the wheels on her skateboard more than she likes changing her clothes. She would much rather beat a boy at a game of basketball than use her body to get his attention.

And Lils? Well, there's only one person who is allowed to call her Lils. She's Lilly to everyone else. And that side of Lilly, the "Lils" side, is reserved especially for him. He's been calling her that name since she was only six years old and she pegged him with a dodgeball. What? She doesn't like to lose, and especially not to boys.

All this is not to say that Lilly is just "one of the guys" though. Not anymore. She's comfortable being a teenage girl, for now. She will gladly don a skirt and pair of high heels, style her hair, paint on some makeup, when she feels the time is right. She likes to mess around with different colors of nail polish, try on dozens of pairs of shoes at a time, even squeal over cute boys. She just doesn't feel the need to do these activities _all the time. _

Besides, how boring would life be if she was only one type of person?

Here's what you really need to know about the Lilly Truscott just described: she is all of the above and none of the above. The real Lilly is greater than the sum of her parts. Each piece of her is brightly colored and can stand on its own, just like a bead inside the tube of a cardboard kaleidoscope. Each bead makes up just a tiny part of the overall image. And just like the mirrors inside the tube reflect these tiny pieces back on themselves, bouncing around light and color to create a new picture, so does Lilly's relationships with the people around her.

A small part of her is a daughter, a friend, a girlfriend, a surfing buddy, a sister, a student. Each of these parts connects to something bigger. They could each stand alone if they needed to, but safe in the world Lilly has made of her own cardboard tube, they don't have to. They just keep twisting, changing, forming new images as they settle, in a constant state of flux.

Lilly Truscott, kaleidoscope at large.

***

The paper wasn't that long, barely even more than a page, but it got the point across Lilly wanted to make. She didn't use the word "things" either. Not once. Hopefully, her teacher understood what she was trying to say. She made Oliver read it first thing in the morning before they left for school, just in case.

"Lils, this is awesome," Oliver gushed, then smiled as he read over the paragraph describing his nickname for her again.

"But yours is five pages or something," she protested, chewing on one of her nails when he placed the paper back down on her kitchen counter.

"But mine is the boring, traditional, 'hi I'm Oliver and this is what I'm like' deal. Except for me talking about falling down all the time..."

"You really wrote about that?" she asked, her eyes brightening. Oliver was as much of a dork as she was. No wonder she loved him.

"Yes, and if you're nice to me, I'll even let you read it," he teased her, surprising her with a quick kiss.

"Okay, if you think its okay, I'm going to turn it in." She picked up the paper, sliding it into a folder and the folder insider her bag.

Oliver slung an arm around her shoulders as they left her house. "If I didn't think it was okay, what were you gonna do? Stay home and write a new paper?" Lilly didn't answer him. "It's more than okay, Lils. It's great. Phenomenal. Amazing. Dazzling, even."

She laughed and smacked him lightly in the stomach with the back of her hand. "You're only saying that because you're hoping I'll make out with you before we meet Miley."

"What? I don't trade compliments for kissing." She gave him a look and he added on, "Much."

Oliver was right though. She got an A on the paper with the note, _Nice job. I can see the bold choices continue. I look forward to the rest of your essays._

Strangely enough, so did Lilly.

***

A/N: I can't really tell you where this idea came from. It just kind of jumped out at me. Although, I will say that I had a similar in class assignment for a social psychology class in the ten "I am _" statements and discussion. It was a fun class. That is all.

Oh, L should be up shortly since I've already started it. I'll tell you that L is for lessons in love. I know, I know, I've been all couple-y with my stories lately. I don't know what's happened there. I used to love friendship stories so much. Haha.


	12. L is for lessons in love

L is for lessons in love.

There were five times in her life that Lilly Truscott was under the impression that she _might _have been in love. (She decided Orlando Bloom couldn't be on this mental list. He didn't count as a real _person. _He was Orlando Bloom. Completely different.) And then there was one time she _knew_. No might have beens about it.

Lesson One: The First Cut Is The Deepest

When she was just thirteen years old, Lilly was obsessed with only a few things: the beach, celebrities, and showing her best friend Oliver up on a skateboard on a regular basis. Boys weren't that high up on the list. Mainly due to the fact that, in her opinion, none of the guys she knew were particularly crush-worthy. Jake Ryan was the new guy in school. He also happened to be a famous television star who wouldn't give her the time of day until her best friend turned him down. Now, Lilly had a crush or two on celebrities before, maybe even an obsession in the form of one Orlando Bloom, but she had never really been up close and personal with one on a day to day basis in the hallways of her very own middle school. (Miley didn't count. When she wasn't wearing the Hannah wig, she was just Miley.)

Every time Jake Ryan passed her in the hallway, Lilly couldn't help but watch as he walked away. She was sure his hair fell in just the right way (though he hadn't quite perfected the hair flip technique) and his eyes gave just the right kind of sparkle when he smiled. He needed a pencil? She would gladly give him her own. He liked to slay zombies? She liked to watch him slay zombies. So what if he didn't tell the best jokes or pay attention to anyone other than himself? He was so cute! If he deigned to speak to her, there was a little flutter in her stomach, just a little one, that made sure she took notice. It didn't matter that Miley and Oliver thought Jake made her act like an idiot. And when he asked her to go the Seventies Dance with him, well, Lilly thought she couldn't have been happier.

Of course, the night of the dance showed her just why crushes were called crushes: they hurt when they came to an end.

Jake Ryan was the first guy she ever _thought _she could maybe, possibly, fall in love with. At some point. But he wasn't sweet enough, he didn't actually pay attention to her, and there was that whole problem of him not being able to take his eyes off her best female friend. The moment his eyes landed on the brunette in the red dress, Lilly knew. She knew he would never feel for her the way he felt for Miley. She knew she just wanted him to feel _something_. She knew she was making a colossal mistake when she and Miley began their tug of war. She knew Miley would win. And she knew Jake wasn't the one for her, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Lesson Two: Know Your Limits

Seaview Middle School went and got itself a new teacher when Lilly was in the eighth grade. A French teacher. A male French teacher who was young enough to still appear attainable, even though he really wasn't. A teacher cute enough to get the female population of the school swooning. A teacher who managed to make learning a new language seem romantic. A teacher who had lived in Paris, the city of love. A teacher who made Lilly ready and willing to give up her beloved Spanish class.

She had always had a bit of a _thing _for languages. She loved learning new words, figuring out the similarities between English and whatever the new language was she was learning. Unlike her classmates, she enjoyed memorizing vocabulary lists and grammatical structures. She relished the chance to practice new phrases by attending "ethnic" restaurants and attempting to order food in the waiter's native tongue. A cute French teacher gave her an excuse to add a new style of oral communication to her repertoire.

Except she couldn't get into his class. It seemed that every other girl in the school had suddenly decided that learning to speak French was a must. So she did the next best thing. She donned a beret and joined the French club, dragging Oliver to meetings until he couldn't take it anymore. She didn't listen when her friends made the point that this was a teacher, that he was too old for her. Her ears heard them, but her brain didn't process the words. As other girls in school lost interest, Lilly kept up the pursuit.

That is until she came to the realization that everyone around her was right.

He was _married _for goodness sake. And he had children. And she was only fourteen. What was she thinking? That was a line she wouldn't cross, and she knew that. (This little fixation may have been even worse than the Orlando Bloom one, in a way.) It wasn't love, just a harmless infatuation, not even really a crush. It barely stung when the news of the wife and kids reached her. The feelings just faded.

Lesson Three: To Thine Own Self Be True

If there was one thing Lilly knew about herself, it was that she could always fit in with the guys. She could try out new hairstyles, put on nail polish and makeup, even go through tons of shoes, but the guys would always see her as one of their own. Matt Marshall made her wish that wasn't true. After crushing on her fellow skateboarder for a little too long, he was the one boy for which she instructed Miley to "girl her up" in the ninth grade.

It was a pity the "girling" backfired.

Lilly was so excited to go to a school dance with Matt, she let Miley change her almost entirely beyond recognition. Hair product, fancy jewelry, pink clothes, it was all for Matt. She was so sure he liked her. He had been the one to ask her out. But then, he never showed up. And he didn't even try to make an excuse.

When she "sued" him, Matt informed her he liked her just the way she was. No fancy frills required. It was sweet, and gave Lilly the much needed excuse to step away from the mirror for a little bit. Of course, even after the makeover, Lilly found that she still enjoyed the occasional skirt and pink lip gloss. Apparently, that was just too much for Matt to handle as well. Lilly wasn't sad about it this time, and the fade wasn't quick either. She was angry. And it took longer for that feeling to dissipate.

She didn't go back to being strictly tomboy, but she didn't stay as full on girly either. Somewhere between the two extremes, Lilly found herself, and she decided no guy was worth hiding that. She just didn't realize then that this happy medium she had struck had been noticed by another boy in her life.

Lesson Four: Cheaters Never Prosper

After her missteps, Lilly was thrilled to find her first _real_ boyfriend in Lucas Hanson. She felt the giddiness she thought should accompany first love, that fluttering was back in her stomach, that pink in her cheeks, so she thought this time would be real. This time, she had found it.

The problem was, Lucas wasn't who she thought he was. Not at all.

Sure, he was cute. There was no disputing that. Everyone could agree he had a charming smile and that crinkle at the corners of his eyes that told you he liked to laugh. And he was smart. She could give him that. And he was smooth. He knew just what to say and how to say it. He wasn't as athletic as Matt. And he wasn't as popular as Jake. But those things didn't matter. Because he liked her. Her. Lilly Truscott. He told her how cute she was. He shared all of her favorite foods with her. He held her hand when he walked her to class, even talked about the clouds they could both see on the phone on their walks home. He never missed an opportunity to compliment her. He made her feel so special.

Of course, he was also somehow finding the time to make two other girls feel just as special. No wonder he never wanted to meet her mom.

Miley tried to warn her. But she didn't believer her best friend. It just seemed to horrible to be true. Lilly would be able to tell if someone was lying to her about something as big as that. Oliver stayed suspiciously silent on the whole thing for the days that Miley tried to convince her, which really should have told her something was wrong. But it took Lucas telling Lola Luftnagle he would dump all of his girlfriends for a chance to be with Hannah Montana for Lilly to really see the light, not to mention upend a shrimp cocktail over his cool blond hair.

Lilly went through her "stages of grief" after that. She was hurt, then she was angry, but she never missed out on a chance to tell every girl in just what a jerk Lucas was. She sought vengeance for a while, making dating especially difficult for her ex-boyfriend. No girl would touch him with a ten foot pole. Still, there was also a lengthy time period of not trusting the other guys she came across. But, eventually, she moved on, accepting that Lucas was just an idiot and she deserved better than that.

Lesson Five: Beauty Is Only Skin Deep

Gabe Lamotti had been affectionately known as the hottie with the swimmer's body by the female population since Lilly set her foot on high school ground. She always appreciated what other girls saw in him, but she never really thought she was shallow enough to have any sort of feelings for him when she didn't know much about him. Until that fateful day her sophomore year when he smiled at her and held a door open for her. That was all it took really. It was a spark ignited by good old fashioned chivalry. Then there were a few nods in the hall, a casual "hey" here and there, and for some reason, Lilly was smitten.

She couldn't even put her finger on why. Maybe it was because Gabe wasn't her usual pick. He wasn't someone who was even on the outskirts of her circle of friends, not like Jake or Matt. He didn't go around chasing the girls, so he wasn't pursing her like Lucas. And of course, he wasn't years older than her or speaking a foreign language like the teacher Lilly had fixated on. He was someone completely different, but someone she had a few things in common with too.

Gabe was a swimmer (hence the nickname) and a surfer. Two sports Lilly had always appreciated. He spent most, if not all, of his free time at the beach, and Lilly liked to do the same. He wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, but he wasn't as dumb as a box of rocks either. In fact, he seemed to have the most trouble in math, just like her. The only time she was ever actually alone with him was because she suggested they try to work on some math homework together. Lilly thought she was bad in math, but Gabe was horrible. He didn't seem to understand the most basic rules. Lilly decided scholastic achievements were not the way to get to know him better.

Then she made the mistake of airing her own personal daydream on the radio waves. In her defense, she had been told the microphones were off, they were on commercial, when Oliver left the room. She spent the time while he was gone imaging what it would be like if Gabe Lomatti actually asked her out, role playing the entire scenario for the whole city to hear. Oliver just told her that Gabe wasn't really her type, she should forget about it, and the whole thing would blow over, but on Monday at school, it seemed the entire popular crowd had heard her little fantasy, and everyone was laughing at her.

Even Gabe.

He did apologize, admitting he found the situation funny, not her, and he let her down easily. So, it wasn't like he was a total jerk. But then Lilly discovered he asked out Miley not too long after. Another popular guy added to Miley's tally and subtracted from her own. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt as much as she expected it to. Lilly was more embarrassed than anything else.

And One More Lesson: True Love Waits

Oliver Oken had always, always, been there for Lilly. Since they were four years old, the two of them had been practically inseparable. He had seen her through each of her relationship blunders, consoled her after every failed crush, or at least told her to shake it off before offering her some ice cream. He was the boy she could pick on, take out her frustrations on, argue with, and they would go right back to being friends. She could laugh with him, see crappy movies with him, see sappy movies with him too, even stalk celebrities with him, and just completely be herself.

In turn, Lilly had done her absolute best to always be there for him as well. She had been there when all three of his major relationships had come to an end (although one was his choice and he wasn't all that broken up about it), defended him to his mom when Nancy Oken used her "man voice", and soothed his ego when her jokes had gone too far. She let him vent to her, she let him yell at her when he needed to, but she also put him in his place when he was the one to go too far. They had always been honest with one another, and she was sure they would always be the best of friends.

Somewhere along the way he went from being her dorky best friend to the guy she couldn't stop thinking about. And somewhere along the way Lilly went from being the girl who drove Oliver crazy with her wit and sarcasm to the girl who drove him crazy just by entering the room. She would find herself jealously watching him flirt with other girls, not noticing the emotion. Or she would end up being his default date to parties by some mutually unspoken agreement, gravitating to his side instead of letting cute boys chat her up. The fluttering in her stomach when he was around had been something she had attempted to ignore for a long time until it intensified to the point that she knew it wasn't a crush. And she found herself smiling whenever he was around. And he was smiling back. Oliver wasn't the kind of guy she would moon over incessantly and gossip about with other girls, and he wasn't the kind of guy she would be able to quickly get over if things went badly.

They did a strange courtship dance where they intensified their teasing of one another before succumbing to the inevitable. Or maybe they just reverted back to the way they treated one another when they were four. Who knows? All that mattered is that they were together.

And it wasn't easy just because they knew one another so well. There were bumps and bruises along the way. Some serious, some not so serious. Sometimes one of them forgot an important event. Other times one of them said things without thinking. And at the end of the day, they both always found their way back to each other.

Yes, Lilly Truscott might have _thought _she found love five times before. But there was only one time where _it _found _her_. It crept up on her, tackled her to the ground, and forced her to look it in the eye, face it head on. And she couldn't be more thrilled.

***

**A/N: This is super short compared to what I've been writing lately, but I've always wanted to write something in this style, and "lessons" seemed to be the perfect way to go. It was kind of fun. Although strange for me to not use any dialogue at all. Let me know what you thought about it. I'm curious.**


	13. M is for marine biology

**A/N: My internet is down at home... again. So, I don't know when I'll be able to update, but I am still writing. So, for now, enjoy this chapter. (By the way, I know nothing about the mating habits of aquatic snails.) **

M is for marine biology.

There was a large rock with a flat top in the middle of the tank. It was a dark shade of gray, for the most part, but the smoothed over top was a shade or two lighter. The rock was surrounded by sand and small plants that Lilly didn't know the names of. There was even a small piece of wood covered in bits of algae.

Lilly watched the thin leaves of the plants sway back and forth in the illusion of current created by the filter at the back of the tank. One snail sat on the flat top of the rock. The other on the piece of wood covered in the green flecks of algae. They had moved toward one another once, then headed for opposite ends of the tank, not paying one another the slightest bit of attention.

Lilly sighed, her chin propped up with one hand, and twirled a strand of her blond hair around her pen. She had been sitting here for fifteen minutes already.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Aquatic snails. What had she been thinking? This was going to be the worst project ever.

"Come on," she finally groaned. "Just do it already!" Lilly stood at the lab station, the metal stool scraping along the floor.

"Do what?" A male voice asked. A very attractive boy with a dark blond head of hair and pretty decent sized biceps was walking into the room, his backpack over one shoulder.

"Oh, uh... the snails," Lilly tried to explain lamely.

How was she going to tell one of the hottest guys in school that she was supposed to be writing down detailed observations about the mating habits of this particular species of snail? She didn't think that was something covered in polite conversation. She gestured to the tank, or at least, she tried to, but she did it with the hand that was twirling her hair around a pencil, and she almost pulled out a whole clump of blond before she realized what she was doing. Giving an embarrassed chuckle, she detangled the pencil and set it on the black lab table.

"I just came to pick up my notebook. I left it here after biology." He pointed to one of the back tables and Lilly nodded.

"So," she began, once he was behind her, on his way to the notebook, "on your way to swim practice?"

"No, actually swimming's over. It's water polo now."

"Right." She knew that. She didn't know why she couldn't remember it.

Training her eyes on the two snails in the tank again, Lilly listened as the spirals of his notebook scratched along the table, the zipper to his bag opened before he shoved the papers inside, then the zipper closed the bag again. His footsteps echoed along the floor as he walked back toward her. Guys always did walk so much louder than girls, unless of course the girl was wearing heels.

"So, working on homework or something?" He asked, standing right next to her now.

Lilly felt her face heat up and she smiled, turning her head slightly in his direction. "Yeah."

He really was cute. She could see what all the other girls liked about him. And he was smiling back at her.

"How's the mating ritual going?" A new voice asked from the front of the room.

Lilly sucked her teeth and held back a scowl. He was fifteen minutes late to work on their project and he had the nerve to say _that _right now?

After a glance back and forth between the two, the first boy remarked, "I better get going. Don't want to be late for practice or I've got to swim in my jeans." And then the cute boy was walking toward the door, nodding his head briefly at the brunette boy coming in.

"I was doing just fine on my own," Lilly muttered while climbing back on her stool, just loud enough that her lab partner could hear her when he reached the table.

"Yeah, right."

"Where have you been, anyway, Oliver? You were supposed to meet me here, like, forever ago."

"Oh, _forever. _Yeah, sorry about that. I guess you don't want the junk food and the soda I brought you then?"

For the first time, she noticed that he was carrying a bag of chips and two cans of soda in his hands.

"Long line at the vending machines?" Lilly asked him sarcastically.

"So long," Oliver told her in an exaggerated tone. "Actually, the basketball cheerleaders were stocking up before they got on the bus for the away game."

Lilly nodded in understanding. The prospect of pretty girls in short skirts had made him let them all go ahead of them. She snatched the can of some sort of lemon-lime drink from his hand and popped the tab. "Thanks." The word was forced out and her eyes were back on the snails, which were still not doing anything. They were both on the bottom of the tank now, just inches away from one another, so that was promising.

"But seriously, how's the mating ritual going?" He took a seat on the stool next to her and peered into the tank as well.

"It's not."

"What do you mean? They're right next to each other."

Lilly rolled her eyes, took a swig from the can, and leaned her arms on the table top again.

"They just keep circling each other. One of them approaches, the other one ignores it, then one of them will go on the rock or the stick, and it starts all over again." She shook her head in exasperation.

"Maybe one of them's gay," Oliver joked, popping the top from the generic cola Lilly had left him. He tasted it, made a face, then switched his soda can with hers.

"God, can you imagine that? What are we supposed to do if the boy snail doesn't like girl snails?" She threw her hands up in the air, leaning back, almost falling off her stool.

"Why does it have to be the boy snail? Maybe the girl snail likes other girls." He grabbed her elbow as he spoke, making sure she didn't slip completely off the metal disc.

Lilly got her balance back, then thanked him with a glare. "Well, what do you think we should do? Our final grade depends on this stupid lab report!"

Oliver accepted her glare with a nod and opened the bag of salt and vinegar potato chips supposedly bought for her. As he thought, he popped a chip in his mouth. "You have any mood music?" he asked her with a smirk.

"Mood music?" she repeated in disbelief.

"Yeah, maybe the tank isn't doing it for them. You know, this isn't how things go in the wild. Maybe we need to put on a sex jam, some mosquitoes buzzing or something, turn down the lighting, I don't know." He winked at her, handed her the chip bag, and then laughed at the look on her face.

"I don't know who you are, but there's no way you're Oliver. Because my best friend would never tell me to put on a 'sex jam' for snail mating." She shoved a chip in her mouth when she finished rolling her eyes at him again, elbowed him in the side to let him know she was kidding, and went back to watching the snails.

They spent the next few minutes passing the bag of chips back and forth, eyes glued to the animals in the tank. The animals did just what Lilly said they would do. One of them made a move to travel toward the other, then would suddenly turn, or as suddenly as a snail could turn, and go the other way.

"Why are we taking this class again?"

"Because Todd said it was easy... and I needed to boost my science GPA if I want to take AP Bio next year," Lilly responded.

"I'm drawing a blank on why we would _want _to take a harder science class," Oliver mentioned casually.

"Because if we do well enough on the AP Bio exam, we get college credit, which means one less science class I have to take when I get out of high school." She leaned her head back down, watching one of the snails steadily climbing the piece of wood.

"Right. Less science in college does sound better," he agreed.

Another stretch of minutes went by. Lilly finished her drink, now the generic cola instead of the lemon-lime she had originally picked since she never tried to get the other one back, and the snails did the same little dance again.

"Maybe they're shy... it's too much pressure," Oliver told her when he was walking back from the garbage can where he tossed the empty chip bag. He dropped the soda cans in the recycling bin.

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe they can't perform under these conditions. They know we're sitting here watching them. And they know we're going to be writing about their most intimate moments." He leaned against the table top, opting to stand up. His legs were starting to fall asleep from sitting on that metal stool. "I mean, people get performance anxiety if there's too much pressure, right?"

Lilly's head fell back as she laughed. "Oliver, have you been paying attention in class at all? The snails aren't smart enough to be aware that we're watching them and writing about them." She paused to compose herself. "Besides, snail mating isn't exactly intimate. It's not like they're humans or mating for life. A snail can meet another one for the first time, and if they want to, they'll go at it, make little snails. Then they both move on to other snails." The two of them looked at one another for a moment before Lilly added, "actually, that does sound like some humans."

"Okay, well, what are we supposed to do if they never... _do... _anything?" he asked her helplessly. They had their notebooks open in front of them, notes for the lab report filling the pages, but observations mainly consisted of "subject A on rock, no response to subject B," and there were no other results written down.

Lilly checked the time. They could only stay as long as the other after school activities were going on. They didn't have much time to record the mating habits of their snails. It wasn't like she could look it up online and make up the observations either. They didn't even know what kind of snails these were. The teacher said it was better if they made observations without knowing; they wouldn't be biased.

"Okay, I'm gonna make a call," she told Oliver.

"What?" Oliver's eyebrows raised. "You know a snail mating specialist?"

"No, but I know someone who took the class before, remember?" she shot back, rooting around in the front pocket of her backpack to locate her cell phone.

"True... He did say this class was easy..." Oliver ducked his head down, moving his head a little closer to the glass. "I'm gonna give them a pep talk while you call."

Lilly scrolled through the numbers in her phone, suppressing a smile as she repeated, "pep talk?"

"Don't judge me."

She giggled, pressing the call button and holding the phone to her ear. There was a faint clicking and the lines didn't connect. Bringing the phone back down in front of her, she glared at the screen, noting the lack of reception bars.

"I'm gonna go in the hall, you keep watching the snails."

"Got it," Oliver agreed, looking forward to Todd telling them the secret to getting the snails to do something. They both needed this extra credit added to their final project, or taking this class was going to have been for nothing.

Lilly hopped down from the stool, and made her way into the hall. Leaning back against a locker, she dialed again, and this time connected.

"Dudette, if you're calling about the waves for tomorrow morning, I don't know the forecast yet," were the first words Lilly heard when Todd answered his phone.

"No, Todd, this isn't about surfing," Lilly responded, favoring him with an eye roll, even though he couldn't see it, but she smiled when she did it. Todd pretty much had a one track mind. "Remember that marine science class you said was so easy?"

"Yeah..."

"Oliver and I have to do the extra credit lab to bring our grades up, but we can't get the snails to do anything."

"Oh, dudette, the extra credit lab was awesome! I got to keep my snails. I named them Curl and Barrel."

"Of course you did," Lilly muttered to herself before cutting him off with, "but what do we do to get the snails to, you know, do something?"

"My snails were night owls. Or night snails. Or something. I totally had to trick them into thinking it was night time."

"Any other advice?" she asked, scraping the heel of her sneaker on the bottom of the wall behind her, hearing a car horn somewhere in the distance.

"Yeah, you gotta go with the flow, let the snails do their thing. Sometimes it takes a while for them to warm up, get to know each other."

Hearing the horn honk again, she asked, "are you driving?"

"Yeah, I'm on my way to work..." Todd trailed off distractedly before yelling, "dude, yellow means slow down, not run people over!"

"Okay, then, I'm gonna let you go," Lilly said quickly, allowing him say goodbye before she hung up the phone.

She trudged back into the classroom, letting the door slam shut behind her, not really paying attention. Oliver jumped from his spot next to the tank, spinning on his heels to meet her eyes.

"What'd Todd say?"

"Todd said that his snails were nocturnal." Oliver raised his eyebrows. There was no way Todd would use the word nocturnal. "Okay," Lilly amended, "he said his snails were night owls. He thought it would be good to turn off the lights and trick them into thinking it's night time."

"But... our snails are already awake," he mumbled, a little confused at this idea.

"Hey, it's worth a shot, right?" When Oliver shrugged and gave a quick nod, Lilly flipped the switch, cutting the lights in the room.

"Hmm... there's still all this light coming in from the windows," Oliver remarked, casting his eyes around the room and seeing the sunlight reflecting from every surface.

The two of them got to work, shutting the blinds, making the room as dark as they could in the middle of the afternoon. Lilly made it back to the tank first, and when she did, she stopped short, not believing her eyes. Bracing her hands on the table top, she stooped, peering through the glass, her eyes darting back and forth.

"Oliver," Lilly called, the pitch of her voice moving higher, "where the hell are the snails?"

"What are you talking about?" Oliver ran to her side, bending down next to her, his eyes following the same path hers had just taken in the dim light.

Lilly spotted movement behind the rock and she twisted her neck at an odd angle, trying to see behind it.

"What did you do?" she snapped at him.

Oliver took a few steps back, knowing that this was going to make Lilly angry. He held his hands up in a defensive position. "I was just thinking that maybe, the snails needed more options, you know? Maybe one of them would prefer a different mate, so I grabbed the snail from that tank over there," he pointed to one of the tanks in the front corner of the room as he spoke, "and put it in this tank. You know, that way there would be a little friendly competition, or if the snails swing that way, they could all have their own little party."

"You tried to set up a snail threesome?" Lilly cried out in disbelief, straightening up completely. Since she hadn't been looking at him when he pointed, she continued with, "Which tank did you get the snail from?" If she was a dragon, she would have been breathing fire.

"That one." Oliver pointed again and Lilly followed his arm with her gaze.

"The one with all of the purple fish tank rocks on the bottom?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Yeah."

Lilly grabbed on to the top of her head with both hands. If she didn't love her hair so much, she would be tearing it out right now. "Oh my god," she whispered, starting to pace. She whirled on him, smacking him hard in the arm. "Are you nuts? Do you know what kind of a snail that is?"

"The pretty kind?" Oliver tried to joke about it, but she smacked him again.

"No, you donut, that's a carnivorous snail!"

"It eats meat? I thought snails ate plants." He scrunched his nose up in confusion and Lilly smacked him again. "Ow! Stop hitting me!"

"How could you not know it eats other snails?! Don't you ever listen in class?" She moved to smack him again, but he caught her hand and held it so she couldn't reach him. "Ugh!"

"How was I supposed to know it was going to eat the other snails? Who goes into a mating ritual expecting to get eaten?" Oliver shot back, and they both paused for a second after his words. "That didn't sound the way I thought it would..."

"Oliver, they aren't even the same type of snail!"

"We don't know that!"

She yanked her hand from his grasp before gripping his arm and dragging him back to the tank. "Look at that," she hissed. The snail Oliver had placed in their tank was making its way out from behind the rock, and Lilly felt it looked a little too sure of itself. "It's twice the size of our snails."

"Oh, I thought it was just older than them..."

Lilly sighed, letting him go and passing a hand in front of her face.

"What are we going to do?" she moaned.

Oliver rubbed his hands together and got that look in his eye when he came up with a plan. Lilly saw it when she took her hand away from her eyes.

"Whatever it is," she told him, "it's probably not going to work."

"Lilly, come on, we just have to get ourselves some new snails." He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded his head in satisfaction.

In spite of her anger, Lilly could feel the beginnings of a smile starting. "Where are we going to find ourselves a couple of the same exact snails when we don't even know what kind they are?"

"The pet store," he informed her, beginning to pack up his things. When he was done, he grabbed the little net next to their tank, scooped up the carnivorous snail and carted it back to its own little box.

"Have you ever seen snails at a pets store?" she asked him.

"Only one."

He turned back to her and saw that she hadn't moved to put away any of her belongings. Her hands were on her hips and she was staring a bit dazedly into what used to be the home of their project subjects.

"Lilly, snap out of it!" Oliver instructed, crossing the room quickly and shoving her notebook into her backpack. "I can fix this!"

"You always say that right before bad things happen."

"No, the bad thing already happened. Now, it's time for the good stuff."

Forty-five minutes and two buses later, the two of them were standing in front of The Sandcastle, which apparently specialized in marine animals. The building was such a bright white Lilly had to shield her eyes from the glare.

"You're kidding, right?" she asked.

"Nope. I came here with Todd and his brother once when one of his fish died. They have everything you could possibly imagine... that's legal for a person to keep in their house." He stepped up over the curb and headed toward the darkly tinted glass doors at the front of the store.

Lilly thought they looked anything but inviting. She had a bad feeling about this. Sighing, she called out, "maybe we should just explain what happened and forget about this... we could put it in our report. Variety isn't always the spice of life."

Oliver turned around, grabbed her arm, and began dragging her to the entrance. "You said we have to ace this report. I don't think that's going to cut it."

"Fine."

Once inside, Lilly could see what he meant by the place having everything. Tanks and aquariums lined every wall. And the walls looked like they went on forever. There were fish of all shapes and sizes. She could see crabs, turtles, not to mention the dozens of rows of shelves holding food and plants and books on how to take care of your new pet. There were even a few refrigeration units set up in the middle with bait fish and shrimp for fisherman. A little section in one corner of the store had dive gear, and a small glass container to her right was full of coins and dollar bills, a sign above it asking for donations to help preserve the oceans.

She tossed in the few coins she had in her pocket. She blamed all the time she spent in classes with Saint Sarah. That girl always managed to convince her to help preserve something or help someone.

"Do you really think they'll have snails here?" Lilly asked Oliver a little apprehensively.

"Honestly, no idea, but I thought it was our best bet." He smiled when she tried to glare at him and pointed to the left wall. "Everything with a shell's over there, come on."

She followed him along the yellow tiled floor. They walked down an aisle full of rocks, plastic plants, divers, pirate ships, and treasure chests. This was apparently the one-stop place for all of your fish tank accessories as well. Maybe there was some hope.

When they came face to face with the rows and rows of water filled aquariums though, she was sure this whole excursion was going to be a wild goose chase. There were hundreds of animals here, and passing by tank after tank, she didn't see any snails.

"Hey, look at that little guy." Oliver was a few tanks back from her, and Lilly returned to his side to find his finger pointing at a hermit crab with a brightly colored shell that corkscrewed into the middle. There was pretty pattern of yellow and orange spots all over that tightly coiled shell.

"Oliver, you aren't here to find a new pet. We're looking for our snails, remember?"

"I know, I know, but he's kind of cool looking."

"Oh, would you come on," she snapped, pushing him in the other direction. She couldn't help a look back over her shoulder at the little crab though.

"Alright, you can stop pushing me."

They stopped in front of another set of tanks, each of them scanning a different row, but still, no snails in sight.

"Did you need help finding something?"

Lilly turned her head to respond, but the question wasn't aimed at her, it was aimed at Oliver. A dark haired girl in an orange tee shirt with the store's logo on the back and a denim mini skirt was standing between the two of them, her eyes on Oliver. Lilly stifled a giggle when she saw who it was.

"Yeah, actually, we're looking for-" And then he saw who it was too. "Sophie?" Oliver chuckled nervously. "I didn't know you worked here."

"Yeah, I just started a few days ago actually." She rocked on her heels, her ballet flats squeaking a little bit on the tile, and clasped her hands in front of her.

"Oh..." Oliver trailed off and there was an awkward silence where he shot a panicked look in Lilly's direction that she pretended not to see, and Sophie just smiled wider. "Well, Lilly and I are working on a project for class, but our snails... had an accident. So, we were looking for some new ones."

"You're taking the marine science class with Mr. Powers?" Sophie asked perkily, moving a little closer to him.

"Yes, yes, we are." He stepped around her, a little closer to his friend. Lilly just scratched her forehead in amusement.

"Okay, well, all of the snails we have are this way," Sophie headed further down the aisle while talking to him, sparing a quick smile for Lilly. They only had to walk by two more sections of tanks before she stopped in front of the snails. Gesturing to the tanks, Sophie explained, "we probably don't have the same snails as you though."

"What? Why not?" Lilly was the one who was wearing the panicked expression now.

"We only sell animals that are native to the west coast." Sophie shrugged apologetically. "When I took the class last semester, he had animals from all over the world in his classroom. Your snails could have been from anywhere."

"We are so screwed," Lilly whispered, giving the tanks a quick once over, hoping to see something that resembled the same snails Oliver had let get eaten. None of the few tanks the store had holding the creatures looked like they contained the same snails though.

"We-ell. Maybe not," Sophie responded. "When I took the class, Sarah was in it too, and she, uh, 'liberated' a lot of the freshwater animals to a local lake. It's possible there are still some there." She shrugged again, her cheeks pinking when she glanced back at Oliver.

"Thanks," Lilly muttered, not sounding the least bit grateful.

"Where's the lake?" Oliver asked, surprising all of them.

"Just about a mile from here," Sophie responded, giggling a little when she continued giving Oliver directions.

"Great," Lilly said to herself, "I get to go looking for snails."

They ended up buying a temporary plastic container to store the snails in, and a small netted scoop like the one used to clean debris from fish tanks. Sophie repeatedly informed them that they would need to use water from the lake in the container, at least until they could put them in a proper tank. Lilly rolled her eyes with every piece of instructions, getting tired of Sophie managing to sound so condescending while attempting to flirt with Oliver at the same time. Oliver just looked scared until they were walking.

And walking.

And walking.

Lilly was soon convinced that this "lake" was actually in the next state or something and Sophie had sent them off on what she was sure was a path to nowhere.

"Oliver, pick up the pace," she barked after she saw where the sun was in the sky. She had no intention of being out snail hunting with Oliver after dark.

"But I'm getting tired...." Oliver groaned, hoping to elicit some sympathy, but he was disappointed. He felt conspicuous trudging along down the deserted street toward an unknown lake with his backpack on. The two of them probably looked like they were running away from home or something. Of all the days not to drive his dad's car to school, of all the days to not catch a ride from Miley, it had to be today.

"At least it's Friday," Lilly mumbled when he caught up with her. "That means we aren't cutting into normal studying time or anything."

"You say that like you think I actually study," he joked.

"Yeah, what was I thinking?" she asked him sarcastically. "Hey, look, I think that's the path Sophie talked about over there!"

She pointed ahead of them to a well worn strip that used to be grass. The dirt and sand mixed together, leading away from the sidewalk, passed a small cluster of trees. Their footsteps quickened, and soon, they were looking out onto a small body of water surrounded by short grass and muddy banks.

"Sophie should have warned us that we needed boots," Lilly moaned, edging cautiously to the shore. "My shoes are going to be ruined."

"Boots?" Oliver yelped. "It looks more like we need those weird rubber pants with the suspenders. How are we supposed to find snails out there?"

"You're the one who asked where the lake was!"

"I didn't think it was going to be this dirty!"

"It's a lake, Oliver, what did you expect?"

"These are my new jeans, Lilly!"

The volume of their voices kept rising, and a flock of birds took off from a nearby tree, startling them both. Lilly glanced around them as the birds flew away. The area around the lake was pretty quiet. They were far enough from the road that they couldn't hear the traffic, if there even was any. There were no houses, no businesses. It was, for all intents and purposes, deserted.

"Just, stay here," Lilly snapped, shrugging her backpack from her shoulders. She stepped out of her shoes and yanked her socks from her feet. She stuffed her socks into her sneakers and threw them on the ground by Oliver, then proceeded to roll up her pants.

"What are you doing?" Oliver asked her.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm going to look for snails!"

"How are we even supposed to know where to look?"

"Oliver, I'm going to look around the edges of the lake. If the sun goes down and we're stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, I might drown you, so stop asking so many stupid questions!"

"That wasn't a stupid question!" he snapped back, pointing the fish tank scoop at her. She snatched it from his hand and stepped closer to the bank. Just as the red paint on her toenails disappeared beneath a layer of muck, Oliver asked worriedly, "what if there're leeches?"

She immediately jumped back from the edge, almost sliding into the mud, echoing "leeches?"

"In the movies, lakes always have leeches in them. Someone gets out of the water, and they're covered in them."

"It's not like I'm going for a swim!"

"Oh, right."

Oliver watched Lilly as she walked back to the edge where the muck began, and when her feet sunk into the sludge again, he cringed. He had never felt more badly for screwing up a science project before.

"Ew, ew, ew," Lilly whispered, trying not to let Oliver see how grossed out she was. She had never been against getting a little dirty, but the mud smelled weird and the lake water was more than a little dirty. She swallowed and leaned forward, just where the water lapped the edge of the mud. Bending at the waist, Lilly peered into the shallow water closest to her. She didn't see anything resembling snails. Not even a little. So she stepped in a little bit further.

And when the sun started to set an hour later, she still didn't see anything, so she instructed Oliver to call Miley to pick them up. They'd just have to walk back to the pet store and meet her there. They would come up with a new plan tomorrow.

As Lilly moved to climb up the bank, she failed to take into account just how steep the edge of the slope actually was, and she felt herself start to slide backwards, toward the murky water. When Oliver went to grab her arm, he failed to take into account that her momentum was enough to pull them both in. And the walk back to the pet store seemed longer, and much more unpleasant, than the walk to the lake had been. Water squished in Oliver's sneakers, his jeans clung to his body. Lilly kept finding pieces of plant life in her shirt sleeves or her pockets and flinging it away from her.

When Miley's car pulled into the parking lot, now empty because the store had closed for the night before the two of them made it back, she was not pleased.

"You two are disgusting," she moaned, turning off the ignition. "You can't get in my car like that."

"What are we supposed to do about it?" Lilly snapped back. She was not pleased either. Her project was essentially ruined. She had spent the afternoon on a dead end search for snails. And now she was completely soaked and muddy from falling in a lake. Since the sun had gone down, she was starting to get cold as well. Did Miley think she was enjoying this?

Miley got out of her car, keys dangling from her fingers, and she stepped around to the trunk. "I'm going to see if I at least have a beach towel or something so my seats don't get all nasty." She gave a little shudder while opening the trunk and came up with a bright pink towel covered in dark purple flowers. "Here," she shoved the towel in their direction, "use this."

"To do what?" Oliver asked blankly.

"To sit on!" Miley continued rummaging around in the trunk, certain that she had some clothing that Hannah had been given for free. At least Lilly would be able to change her clothes. The amount of mud that was about to be tracked into her car would be slightly less if that could happen.

Oliver tossed his and Lilly's backpacks into the back seat. They hadn't fallen in the lake, so at least they didn't smell disgusting or have water dripping from them. He began tucking the edges of the beach towel around the seat, figuring if they didn't at least try to humor Miley, she might just leave them there.

"Okay," Miley called as she shut the trunk, "I've got this for you." She held up a small dress in Lilly's line of vision. "I'll just have to have it dry cleaned or something before I wear it."

"Miley," Lilly started to say, but her friend didn't let her finish.

"Come on! It'll take forever to get the seat clean if you sit down in those pants!"

"Fine!"

She grabbed the dress and went around the side of the building where no one could see her, glaring at the sidewalk the entire way. The dress was tiny. It was the kind Hannah would pair with leggings. And it was bright pink. Lilly had nothing against pink. But she was cold. And the dress was thin. And she didn't want to change out here in the middle of nowhere and then have to get into the car and ride all the way home in something that looked like it should be worn to a movie premier. She draped the dress over a metal bench at the back of the building, then glanced around for security cameras. It would be just her luck if they had hidden ones and she ended up on their tapes half naked. Sighing, Lilly gave in to the inevitable, peeled off her shirt and shimmied out of her jeans. A layer of grime caked her skin, and she was imagining the spray of a warm shower at home while she pulled the dress over her head.

It barely covered her butt.

"Of course," she muttered holding her clothing at arms length, careful not to get too much dirt on Miley's dress. She took small, quick, steps back to the car. The fabric of the dress rode up with every step, so she had to use one hand to hold it down.

"Huh," Miley commented when she reached the car again, "it's a little short... Maybe I won't use that for my next music video. Daddy might not like that."

"You think?" Lilly asked her crossly.

Oliver wasn't paying attention, trying to crawl onto his towel in the back seat without leaving too much of a trace on Miley's floor. Miley carefully pulled Lilly's soiled clothing from her hands, then handed it to Oliver as he was trying to buckle his seat belt.

"What is this? I'm not a shelf, you know!"

"No, but this way, all the dirt's in one spot." Miley smiled sweetly at him, then walked back around to the driver's seat, while Lilly tried to sit down.

"Miley, I can't even sit in this! I should have just kept my jeans on."

"Would you just get in? No one can see you! Hannah's got a fund raiser she has to be at in an hour, so I need to hurry." Without letting Lilly respond, she reached across the front seat and pulled her into the car.

Lilly slumped down where she sat, her cheeks burning, and avoided eye contact with anyone who pulled up next to them at traffic lights. Neither she nor Oliver said a word the entire ride back to their neighborhood. She kept catching his eye in the side mirror and having to quickly look away.

She didn't make eye contact with her mom either when she stormed into the house in the shortest dress known to man, and ran as fast as she could up the stairs and into her shower.

The next day, when Oliver returned her clothing to her, she had been to angry to grab it from the back seat, her mother just raised a silent eyebrow in the kitchen. He had even washed it all for her.

Of course, then he dropped a bombshell on her, one she hadn't even considered as a possibility to fix their project.

"I think Todd has the same snails we had. He said we could just use his to finish our project."

When it turned out this was true, Lilly spent the entire time observing Todd's snails smacking Oliver in the arm every twenty minutes or so. She never wanted to see another lake as long as she lived.

***


	14. N is for nine lives

**A/N: I don't know how I feel about this one. I liked the idea of it when I started writing it, but I don't know if I like the finished product. It's not exactly how I usually write. Let me know how you feel about it. By the way, this story means I've officially passed the half way point in the alphabet! Okay, well, I was excited about that, even if I wasn't so much about the story itself.**

N is for nine lives.

People always made jokes about cats having nine lives, and Lilly had never thought of herself as particularly similar to felines. They were graceful, always landed on their feet, even the stray ones seemed to have a knack for keeping themselves well groomed. Lilly, on the other hand, seemed to have a knack for tripping over her own shoes, getting food in her hair, and being generally clumsy when she was surprised. She did however, have the same stubborn streak, the same fierce need to prove herself independent of others, and a deep affection for those she chose to attach herself to. It was no wonder that she had earned her nine lives as well.

One: Friendly Warfare, Age 4

The very first time Lilly was ever afraid for her life was during her year in preschool. As an adult, she could barely remember the incident, but her mother never failed to remind her of it when she was being reckless. She had been best friends with Oliver Oken for an entire two months, three weeks, and five days when it happened.

The two of them and a small group of other friends had declared war from their vantage point of the monkey bars on another group of kids who had taken over the sandbox. They had commandeered the bean bags from one of the games where you were supposed to learn to throw them at a specific target, and were using them to lob at the enemy. Unfortunately, because it was still warm, the other team was using water balloons filled for the express purpose of an "outdoor day." Balloons and sand flew everywhere. Some children had abandoned their shoes and their feet were covered in mud. It was complete chaos, and the very new and very inexperienced teacher had no idea how to control her students.

Lilly had been sitting on one of the lower rungs of the metal structure, but reluctantly agreed to climb to the very top to help Oliver "rally the troops." He had been watching way too many of those military reenactments on the History Channel with his grandfather. But the rungs were slippery from the water balloons, and when she slid from the top, she hit the back of her head with a loud crack on the way down.

The doctors said she was incredibly lucky her skull was so thick. All she could remember after that was a lot of yelling, some bright lights, and Oliver telling her over and over that he was sorry. When she woke up in the hospital, the first thing she did was tell her mother that Oliver was her very best friend in the whole world and not to be mad at him because it was all her fault.

Lilly got four stitches at the base of her neck, just inside her hairline, and a fear of falling from high places. The teacher got fired and found a job that involved less children. And Oliver got a stern talking to from his own mother, as well as a need to never see Lilly cry again.

Two: Direct Hit, Age 12

It seemed to Lilly that she and Joanie Palumbo had been fighting for as long as she could remember, even if Joanie hadn't even moved to her school district until she was seven. During tryouts for the Seaview Middle School soccer team in the seventh grade, those arguments came to a head. (Of course, just a few short years later, the arguing would intensify yet again when Joanie set her sights on Lilly's best friend, but that's another story.) Both girls were competing for a spot on a team that was traditionally made up of eighth graders who were twice their size, and both girls had been spending the last two years competing in just about everything else as well.

After watching the girls in several basic drills and conditioning exercises, the coach divided them into teams and set up games for them to play. Lilly found herself running down the field, trying to keep the ball from Joanie, but the majority of her teammates were useless when it came to passing, and she was doing most of the work. Lilly bobbed and weaved to the best of her ability, and the coach eventually clapped her hands, signaling for their teams to go run laps.

Even though it wasn't a full contact sport, as soon as the coach moved on to another team, recording her observations, Joanie plowed into Lilly in a manner that would have only been appropriate with the proper gear and in a hockey rink. Lilly went down, landing awkwardly in the grass with a snap to her collar bone. If she hadn't passed out from the pain, she told Oliver later when he was sitting on the edge of her bed at the hospital, she would have killed Joanie. Of course, she also added that her life flashed before her eyes right before she passed out, which is the entire reason she counted this as her "second life."

Joanie made the team. Lilly didn't. She did, however, trade in her knee pads for pom-poms the following year, thinking that cheerleading might be safer for her. It wasn't really.

Three: Broken Heart, Age 15

Lilly had always thought of life and death as purely physical things. You were alive, then you weren't. But, at 15, she decided there must be degrees of this because your life could be completely tied to another person. Her third life began when her best friend started dating her worst enemy, and a small part of her fell apart.

There were people who thought she wasn't being fair, that Joanie Palumbo wasn't that bad now, that the girl in question had changed for the better, but Lilly always knew differently. Even when they called a temporary truce, hanging out to make Oliver happy, there was that feeling in the back of her mind that he could do so much better than Joanie. She hated the way Joanie pushed Oliver to do things he didn't enjoy, the way Oliver dropped whatever he was doing when his girlfriend called so she wouldn't get mad at him, and most of all, Lilly hated that she no longer had him all to herself.

Because when her best friend became someone's full time boyfriend, she lost the part of him that was completely hers, and a little piece of herself along with it. It didn't take her long to figure out what that meant, that it wasn't simple jealousy, and she hated it.

Until he broke up with Joanie. Then things went back to normal. Almost. And then Oliver belonged to Lilly and Lilly belonged to Oliver.

Four: Fevered Visions, Age 17

Snow was not usually seen in Malibu, California. Malibu was a sunny beach town after all. Which is why flurries was reason enough to run outside, hair still wet from a recent shower, and dance around with your boyfriend, even if he was just getting over a cold. What was not advisable was making out with him in the freezing weather with the ice melting on your skin for over an hour, because that could land you in the hospital.

And it did, which led to near death experience number four.

Lilly spent three days in a white room on an uncomfortable bed pumped full of medicines with an IV in her arm. Her temperature climbed so high, the nurses were afraid it would never break. She spent her days being poked and prodded, having people wake her up to ask questions she didn't know the answers to, a constant line of relatives going in and out during visiting hours that she never really paid a whole lot attention to. She frequently babbled about donuts and icicles, but the medical staff chalked it up to the illness interfering with her speech patterns, even if a select few of her visitors thought it might have made a little more sense than the hospital employees knew.

Lilly, having never been good with hospitals, would forever claim that she remembered nothing of her stay there until she was cleared to go home. What she really remembered though was Oliver by her side almost the entire time, visiting hours be damned, holding her hand every time she woke up. That, and a lot of lights being shined in her eyes whenever she just wanted to sleep. But, remembering Oliver telling her he wasn't going anywhere no matter what, that was much more preferable to the bright lights.

Five: The Tequila-Vodka Remedy, Age 22

Truscott and Oken. The two had been inseparable since a shared pack of crayons at just four years old, except for a couple of brief spats here and there. Lilly's last semester in college witnessed another one of those spats, although the duration was a little bit more than "brief" and Lilly number five was born.

At the encouragement of a friend's sorority sisters, Lilly threw herself into one of their themed party nights for of age sisters, helping with all of the planning, and then, all of the partying. She ended up drowning her sorrows concerning the silent treatment she had been giving her boyfriend in a drinking contest consisting of vodka shots with another sorority's president. Having never been a big drinker, it didn't take long for Lilly to feel more than a little out of sorts.

Never one to be a quitter though, she then engaged in a game of "tequila pong" instead of beer pong against a couple of frat boys, her team losing by a land slide, largely because Lilly's aim was a little impaired and her ball kept bouncing off the rims of cups, or being caught by the opposing team when it flew too close to their faces. While she stumbled to a back room, a certain number was called by one of the sisters who knew her particularly well to get her an escort back to her apartment. She was angry and tried to ignore her, but didn't make it to her building before a familiar set of arms was catching her just in time as she blacked out.

Spending yet another day in the hospital to have her stomach pumped and her armed hooked up to an IV was not really an experience Lilly wanted to have, but Oliver was at her side again, the entire time, promising her he wouldn't leave until she got home safely. That whole stay was a blur though, and Lilly wasn't even sure what they had been fighting about to begin with.

Of course, Lilly skipped classes the next day, finding the best option to be stationary on her bathroom floor, and Oliver ended up never leaving the apartment once he took her home. It took less than a month for almost all of his belongings to magically find their way there. Lilly vowed to never drink again, and she didn't, except for a glass of champagne at a friend's wedding the next year.

Six: Showered in Sparks, Age 25

Barely reaching the quarter of a century mark, Lilly was ready to walk down the aisle to the one person who had always been there for her, through each of her lives so far. The only problem was the wedding was supposed to take place on the beach and a storm was rolling in. Taking charge as usual, Lilly made the decision to try to rush through the ceremony to get everyone inside for the reception before the rain began to fall.

They didn't get through the ceremony quite quickly enough though, and as the first drops of rain began to fall, the thunder rolled, and a bolt of lightning cut through the air to strike a nearby palm tree, igniting a small fire that also caught the edge of the bride's wedding dress. There was a burnt smell to the air and a ringing in everyone's ears that had nothing to do with the nuptials. She wasn't seriously injured, but she still had to spend a good portion of her day being checked out by paramedics and answering questions for the fire department while her mother ran around assuring guests that the bride was perfectly fine. All the while, the rain pounded down outside.

Oliver held her hand, his fingers locked between hers while she spoke, and Lilly began to wonder if every significant moment in her life was going to be accompanied by medical professionals and a worried Oken. It seemed to be a pattern with her. She vowed to be more cautious in the future.

When the happy couple finally had their first dance, the bride had a slightly charred gown and wasn't wearing any shoes, and the groom refused to remove his hand from around her waist for more than an hour after the final spin on the dance floor, insisting she could lean on him if necessary.

Seven: Baby Talk, Age 34

Another lifetime, another hospital visit. This time though, it wasn't just for her.

The Oken's first child had fallen from a skateboard on her attempt to jump the curb in front of the house, seemingly suffering from a broken arm, and in the stress of rushing the little girl to the hospital, Lilly went into labor with her second child as well, her contractions getting worse and worse in the waiting room, almost two months early. She tried to put off alerting anyone to the fact that she was going to have a baby any minute, trying to focus on the health of her little girl first. Luckily, there was a bad sprain, no broken bones, and Lilly was grateful, until her own pain was almost too much to bare, and Oliver wasn't there to hold her hand as he had been every other time.

As it turned out, she was too far along to be given any drugs, and her daughter was sent to a play area with a nurse to color pictures until a family member could come stay with her. Lilly spent two hours letting the doctors know just how much she hated her husband for causing this (not only the new baby, but also the entire trip to the hospital since he was the one who had fostered a love of skateboarding in both his wife and his offspring), while simultaneously swearing she was not giving birth until he was there in the delivery room with her. Oliver, of course, had been caught in traffic leaving work, and then somehow got lost in the hospital's parking garage before he managed to get to the maternity ward.

It was nothing like their first child, whose delivery had been surprisingly smooth sailing, and Lilly was almost certain that there was a possibility she may have broken a couple of Oliver's fingers when he finally got there and she latched on to his hand like a lifeline. It was not an easy birth and Lilly was out as soon as the baby boy was born. When she woke up, Oliver was at her side, holding their son, their daughter sitting on the edge of the bed, peering into the blue bundle in Oliver's arms.

Seeing her family together like that, Lilly felt another chapter of her life begin. When she was in high school, Lilly had never thought it was possible to love anyone as much as she loved Oliver, but now, the ante had been upped again, and she was sure no one could care for anyone more than she cared for the three people in that hospital room with her. She decided then and there to make sure life's big moments quit happening in hospital rooms, and she settled into a new chapter.

Eight: Shell Shocked Celebration, Age 50

Her 25th wedding anniversary was supposed to be a big day for Lilly and her husband. After sixteen years avoiding any life threatening illnesses or dramatic overnight stays in the hospital though, she should have realized that it was only a matter of time.

Oliver took her out for a romantic dinner at a fancy seafood place near their hometown. They each had a glass of wine, but only one. Lilly still wasn't a big drinker, and she always liked to make Oliver drive her around. Even though his mother was retired, Lilly was sure the older Mrs. Oken wouldn't be above giving her son a sobriety test when they got home and separated her from her grandchildren. Lilly could just imagine her making Oliver walk a straight line along the edge of a throw rug, yelling at him to touch his finger to his nose. The wine wasn't really the issue though. It was the seafood pasta medley that did them in.

You see, in all the years that they had known one another, there were a lot of meals they had eaten. A lot of foods they had tried. In all of her fifty years though, apparently, Lilly had never introduced herself to sea scallops. Or maybe she had, and this allergy she hadn't known about was a completely knew development in her advancing age. Either way, those little tiny flecks in the pasta were bits of scallops, and they didn't like her, constricting her air way and cutting off her oxygen.

Once again, it was Oliver in the driver's seat, Oliver getting her help in the emergency room, and Oliver holding her hand while she rested in an uncomfortable hospital bed. The sterile walls surrounded her and she wondered how long it would be until the next time. How long before she reached the end of her series of lives. She didn't know of any animals that were able to squeeze out more than nine, and she vowed to be even more careful than she had been over the last sixteen years.

But, Oliver wouldn't hear of it. He wasn't going to allow her to be held back, even if she was getting older, and enforced the whole "living life to the fullest" whenever he could.

Nine: The Big Sleep, Age 92

Reaching ninety years of age was a huge milestone for anyone, nearing birthday ninety-three was pretty amazing as well. So was avoiding any major catastrophes for an entire four decades. Of course, nearing birthday ninety-three also meant that you were way passed the point of starting to slow down.

Lilly knew her days were numbered. She had buried both of her parents, both of her husband's parents, and she had outlived several of her oldest friends. (She had even become one of those people who read the obituaries, looking for familiar names, sighing when she found one.) She had grandchildren now. She had retired years ago from a good career. All in all, her life had been good, and not so eventful to make her wish for monotony, and definitely not monotonous enough for her to wish for more.

Okay, so maybe she wished she would have taken more vacations, but really, she couldn't complain.

Her knees ached when it rained now. Her elbow always told her when the weather was going to change, courtesy of one of her many skateboard accidents as a little girl. When she laid on her right side through the night, she would wake up with a terrible stiffness in her collar bone. That, she was sure, was courtesy of Joanie Palumbo. She found herself taking longer naps, going to bed earlier, drinking more coffee to keep herself awake during the day.

And when her husband was the one to go first, the aching in her bones was more pronounced, the weariness more welcome. She was ready to throw in the towel.

It may have taken her nine chapters of her life to realize it, but her life had never really been her own. Opening and closing each of her lives was a familiar face, one that had been there always, and she was ready to see him again, so she shut her eyes, and let sleep take her.

***


	15. O is for overnight stay

**A/N: I'll be honest. This idea, it wasn't mine. It comes from an episode of Dawson's Creek. Pacey and Joey get locked in a Kmart overnight. It's a pretty funny episode and full of all the classic teenage drama cliches. This chapter? Much less happens than in the episode. Also, if any of these alphabetical one shots were in any kind of order, this one would take place some time after H is for handwriting analysis. Not that that's important... not really.**

***

O is for overnight stay.

"I cannot believe you made me go to this." Lilly yanked on her coat and fluffed her hair out from under the collar.

"I didn't make you go," Oliver shot back. "I asked if you wanted to go because I _had _to for class, and you had the night off from work. You were the one who said yes." He shrugged on his own coat and opened the door for her.

"I thought you were taking an intro to pop culture class. That was the most boring museum exhibit about rock music I've ever seen." She breezed by him, leaving the scent of apples in her wake.

Closing his eyes, Oliver took in a deep breath before making a small step forward, almost tripping over his own two feet before he remembered to open his eyes again. "Yeah, well, it's opening night. Maybe Professor Barnes didn't know how boring it was going to be."

"Yeah, right."

"Come on, I went to that lecture with you last week."

"Under extreme protest."

"Okay, fine, so I'll owe you. What do you want?"

By this time they had reached the parking lot, and Lilly was hopping from one foot to the other, trying to get some feeling back into her feet.

"Remind me to quit wearing high heels," she muttered before responding, "I'd settle for some food. When I said I'd go with you, you said there would be food. There wasn't."

Oliver laughed and pulled his keys out of his pocket, letting them dangle loosely from his fingers. "Food it is. I kind of feel like popcorn, actually. You?"

"Sounds perfect." Lilly sighed with relief when they reached his car, and she waited impatiently for him to unlock the doors. At the first click of the locks, she threw open the door and sank into the seat gratefully, slipping her shoes off on the floor.

"You could have just worn flats," he said while starting the car.

"High heels make my legs look longer." Her eyes glared at him. "Besides, these match my dress." With a shrug, Lilly set about looking out the window for a place that would provide popcorn while Oliver drove.

"Yes, that is a pretty great dress," he remarked under his breath.

Lilly tried not to smile at that. She knew it was a great dress. That had been the whole reason she wore it. It was slinky and fit her in all the right places, just short enough to make the guys look. She might not have been able to get up enough courage to tell him that breaking up when she started college and he went off on his tour had been a mistake, but she was so going to make sure he knew what he was missing now. After they had driven a few blocks, she started playing with the radio dial, trying to find something to fill the quiet in the car. Quiet used to be comfortable for them, but now, quiet always made her think about what they used to do when they weren't having a conversation.

"Ooh, we can stop here." As he spoke, Oliver pulled into a large parking lot in front of one of those super stores that had clothing, home furnishings, convenience store type foods, and plenty of other useless things the suburban mom could want.

"What? You said we were going to get popcorn! I was thinking, like, movie theater popcorn with the butter and-"

"They have these huge bags of popcorn in their little restaurant thing for like, two bucks," Oliver explained, cutting her off. "What? It's awesome!"

Lilly rolled her eyes, then looked around. "Why are you parking at the back of the lot? There's practically no one here."

"This is my first _new_ car, Lils. I am not parking up there in the front where everyone else parks, where some soccer mom coming here for last minute kids' cold medicine can bang her door into mine and drive off without leaving me her information." He looked at her pointedly, then climbed out of the car.

"Wait! I have to put my shoes back on." Lilly scrambled to slip her heels on her feet, wincing at the feeling.

"You could just wait in the car."

"Out here? In the middle of the night? All by myself? I don't think so."

"What's the matter, Lils? Scared of the dark?" Oliver joked while he waited for her.

"No, more like scared of getting mugged... or car jacked... or something." She jumped out of the car, teetered on her feet a little bit, then rightded herself to head into the store with him. "But, seriously, you might as well have parked around the corner or something. Jeez."

He just shook his head, listening to each of her "ows" while they walked. Eventually, his hand found its way to her elbow as though that would somehow alleviate the pain in her feet, and even though Lilly liked the heat of his hand on the other side of the fabric from her coat, it didn't stop her feet from feeling like they were being punctured with hundreds of knives, and it didn't stop the back of her shoes from digging into her heels.

"You know how you said there was no one here?" Oliver asked her when they reached the glass doors. "I think that's because they're closing."

"Yeah, but, look, there's still a couple of people in there, I'm sure they'll let us in." Really, she just didn't want to have walked all the way across the parking lot in her killer shoes for nothing. They went through the outer doors and Lilly reached forward to pull the inner door open, but it didn't budge. Just a few doors down, the security officer was letting a woman with a toddler out, but he kept right on going out the door when he saw a group of teenage boys trying to make off with a row of shopping carts. Lilly tilted her head meaningfully and Oliver quickly grabbed the door before it shut, holding it open for her and following her inside.

"Alright, so it's actually good that you decided to stop, cause I'm going to pee." She gestured toward the back of the store and started to hobble away.

"Gee, thanks for sharing."

"What?" Lilly turned on her high heels and added, "I didn't want you to think I just ran off and left you in the middle of the store."

"Alright, meet me over there," Oliver told her with an eye roll, gesturing to the counter that housed popcorn, sodas, and assorted snacks.

"Got it!"

But not even a few minutes later, just as Oliver thought he had found the perfect bag of popcorn, someone, namely Lilly, was tugging on his sleeve and whining that she needed him to come with her.

"You can't go to the bathroom by yourself?" he asked incredulously, shaking his sleeve from her grasp. He didn't understand this development since there wasn't a single other customer in the store since they came in, and so far, he'd only seen one employee.

"Not exactly." She proceeded to drag him down the tiled walkways to a hallway near the back of the store with a large blue sign and an arrow proclaiming _Restrooms. _She pointed to the door with the silhouette of the female form on it, one that was covered in caution tape and an out of order sign. "See."

"Yeah, I see." Oliver smiled and walked into the men's restroom, only to turn right back around and give her the all clear.

"Don't go anywhere!" Lilly yelped as she went inside.

"What? Why?"

"Anybody could come in!" she called through the door.

"Fine." He sighed and leaned against the door, making sure no one else was going to open it. When Lilly was done and limped out of the bathroom, Oliver gave a little huff of annoyance. "Why don't I buy you some new shoes instead of food? You look like you've been out hiking in those or something."

"Nah, if I'm going home, I'll be fine."

"Lilly, you're bleeding."

"I'll be fine." She waved him off and continued, "besides, the store's going to be closing soon."

Just as the words left her mouth, the lights went off. All of them.

"No," Oliver whispered. "This isn't happening." He took off for the front of the store, able to move much faster than Lilly since his shoes weren't working at separating his feet from his legs. Lilly slipped her shoes off and hurried after him, wincing every so often.

Oliver went through the inner set of doors, no problem, but the outer doors were all locked, and he only saw two people in store uniforms in the parking lot, both facing away from him. No amount of his yelling or banging on the glass got their attention, and Lilly watched as two different cars drove off without noticing them on the other side of the glass.

"If you hadn't parked so far away, they would have seen that there was a car still here," Lilly snapped, smacking Oliver in the side.

"There are a bunch of cars at the end of the lot! People leave their cars here all the time!"

"Yeah, their crappy cars that don't start!"

"Stop yelling at me!" Oliver finally snapped back.

They looked at one another for a minute, neither of them sure what to say. Lilly swallowed, looking back through the glass doors.

"We'll just have to call 911 and tell them we're trapped," she said in a thin voice.

"We can't call 911. Being trapped with plenty of food, water, and electricity in a place that will be unlocked in a few hours isn't an emergency." Oliver shook his head, but started searching his pockets for his phone anyway.

"Then call your mom, she'll get us out!"

"My mom doesn't have any pull here. This isn't Malibu." He hadn't come up with any phone in any of his pockets and he closed his eyes as he realized where it was. "Do you have your phone?" he asked Lilly, turning and walking back through the set of inner doors.

She followed him in, answering "Yeah, it's in my purse." But when he turned to her to get it, she added, "which is in your car." Noticing that he wasn't producing his own phone, Lilly questioned him. "Where's yours?"

"In the cup holder. In the car."

The both groaned and Lilly hobbled to a register, picking up one of the phones there. No matter how many different ways she tried to dial out, she couldn't connect to the outside world. "These aren't even real phones," she muttered.

"What do you mean?" He was leaning on the side of the register, only a few inches away from where she was standing in the little box-like structure.

"I can call housewares or children's clothes if you want. I can even page you over the intercom. But I can't dial out." She slammed the phone back into its cradle to demonstrate her frustration.

Any other time, Oliver probably would have been excited to try out the intercom system, but now, he just wanted to get out of the building. "Well, one of these phones has to work. I mean, people call into stores for information all the time."

"Yeah, but when you call in, you don't get a cashier, you get the customer service desk." Her eyes lit up at the realization and they both hurried to the desk that handled returns and other customer related problems. She watched as Oliver picked up one of the phones, trying the same things she did. Dialing nine before the number, trying the pound symbol before the number, even switching lines in an effort to find one that would go to the outside. But nothing worked. He shook his head in annoyance, a few flyaway strands of hair settling across his eyes, and Lilly smiled when he shoved them out of the way. She had to wince though as she leaned back and her heel banged into the bottom of the counter.

"Maybe you should sit." He put the phone down and eyed her feet again.

"What about the break room? You know? Employees only area? It was by the bathrooms. Maybe there's a pay phone back there." After saying it, she started to limp toward the back of the store.

"Who has a pay phone anymore?" Oliver mumbled to himself, wincing every time Lilly did. She really needed to do something about her feet. But there was a pay phone there on the wall near the water fountain, buttons well worn from being repeatedly pushed, several choice words and phone numbers scrawled on the metal base in permanent marker. The only problem was that it, just like the women's bathroom, had an out of order sign stuck across it. Oliver picked up the phone anyway, putting his ear to the plastic, only to find that there was no tone.

"So we're stuck?" Lilly asked him flatly. "I can't be stuck here until they open in the morning!" She walked awkwardly into the break room, finally sitting down in a plastic red chair.

"What, you got a hot date?" Oliver joked.

Lilly didn't respond, propping her feet up in another chair, sighing as she stretched her legs out, one elbow leaning against the table.

"Lilly?" He moved to sit at the same table, sinking heavily into a chair. "Do you?"

"Do I what?" She hadn't even been listening.

"Have a date you need to get to?" He narrowed his eyes at her, his posture not as relaxed as hers, fingers drumming on the table top.

There was a tightness in Lilly's chest and she swallowed hard. She didn't have a date, but this behavior was interesting. "Why?"

"Just curious. That's all." He crossed his arms and leaned back in the seat, eyes still narrowed, gaze still on her.

"Shouldn't they have security cameras or something in here? Somebody should see us, right?" She kept avoiding the question, wanting to see if really was genuinely curious, or if maybe, just maybe,he was jealous.

"Nah. They probably turn the ones inside off when they close. The ones outside are on." His tone was casual, but he was still watching her carefully.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Remember when I shadowed my mom on the job?"

"Yeah."

Oliver nodded his head and gestured around them as he spoke. "I got to follow her around while she talked to the staff members at one of these places about money missing from the safe. They said turning off the cameras inside at night was a cost cutting choice." He shrugged, then asked her again, "So, seriously, why are you in such a hurry?"

"I'm not in a hurry..." Lilly stretched her arms out to touch her toes, and she saw Oliver's eyes shift lower. "I'm just tired. And my feet hurt."

"That's it?"

Lilly smiled at him, sitting back up. "I'm not trying to run out on you because I have a date."

"Alright, wait here." He was on his feet and out of the break room before she could blink.

Lilly looked around the room, gaze searching from the coffee pot to the refrigerator and over to a bulletin board with announcements for the employees posted on it. There was nothing here to help them get in contact with the outside world. She tapped her fingers restlessly on the table in front of her. Patience had never been her strong suit. When Oliver came back into the room, she was just preparing to stand, but he made sure to settle her back in her seat. He had a shopping basket in his hands and it was stocked with antibacterial spray and band-aids.

"You went and got me band-aids?" Lilly asked with a barely suppressed grin. She had to purse her lips together when he grabbed a couple paper towels, wet them, then sat in the seat where she had propped her feet, pulling them into her lap.

"Yeah, yeah. I'd do this for any girl I got locked in a store with." He chuckled and set to work. "Just don't let me forget to pay for these in the morning."

"I won't. I know how the only law you like to break is stealing your dad's car on special occasions," she teased. She didn't say anything else as he sprayed the cuts on her heels and placed a few band-aids across her skin, swallowing hard when she realized he wasn't moving, still holding her feet in his lap.

"So, what do you want to do?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Lils, we're in a store that has just about anything in it. We could do anything." Oliver smiled, the fingers of his left hand stroking one of her ankles without noticing.

"Really? Can we go home? Oh, wait, nope." She shook her head, making a face. "I know, how about we go camping instead? Oh, no, can't do that either."

He rolled his eyes. "You don't even like camping."

"I do too... as long as there's electricity... and plumbing." Lilly huffed, pulling her legs from across Oliver's lap, preparing to stand. "I just can't believe they locked us in."

"It's not like you have somewhere you have to be. You said so yourself."

"I know... it's just that Ryan and I have a project due for our developmental psych class-"

"Ryan. Right." His tone was flat and he placed his elbows on the table.

"What? What does that mean?" She narrowed her eyes at him, not liking that tone.

"Nothing. You guys have just been spending a lot of time together." Oliver shrugged, pushing his chair back from the table.

"We're partners on a project, Oliver. We've taken a couple classes together, and he's a nice guy, so what?" She had been readying herself to stand up, but it was Oliver who was on his feet, not looking her in the eye now. "Wait a minute. Are you-"

"Guys don't pair up with pretty girls on projects for no reason," he said before she could finish her sentence. He tossed the paper towels and the paper from the band-aids into the trash, still not looking at her.

"Oliver, that's ridiculous." Lilly shook her head, climbing to her feet, but he was already on his way out the door.

"I'm gonna go check and see if I can find the manager's office or something. They should have a phone that dials out," he called over his shoulder.

"But-" She didn't finish what she was going to say, too surprised to think of yelling after him, and her feet were too sore to run. So he was jealous. Really jealous. Which she didn't understand. Because he had absolutely no reason to be... unless he didn't know that.

Throwing her high heels into the shopping basket of the first aid supplies Oliver had brought to her, Lilly carried the assorted items with her while she padded softly out onto the tiled floor that made up the entire store. She walked carefully through the aisles, not sure where Oliver could have gone, trying to think of a way to make this right. Running a finger across a shelf when she reached the electronics section, the big screen television that practically had an aisle all to itself gave her an idea, and she began to quickly sift through the bargain DVDs.

Over half an hour later, she still hadn't seen Oliver. He was probably off glaring at things or angrily mumbling to himself or something. Well, she was going to fix that very soon. Hopping up on the counter in the department, the area where they kept some of the more expensive pieces of electronics, Lilly eyed the phone, trying to figure out which button was used to page. When she found it, she cleared her throat, picked up the phone, hit the button, and said clearly, "Oliver Oken to electronics, please. Thank you."

She waited, kicking her heels, careful not to hit them on the piece of furniture. It didn't take too long.

"You called?" His voice was still flat, and it came from behind her.

"Yeah." She hopped down, winced on impact, and then hurried around the counter. "Come with me." Grabbing his arm, she smiled when he didn't pull away, and she led him to the square of floor that had been cleared in front of the big screen. "You know how all of the TVs are always playing the same video when you go into a store?"

"Yeah, so..." Oliver wasn't looking at her, and he had crossed his arms across his chest when she had let him go.

"Well, I found the DVD player that they're all synced up to, and I have a movie in for us to watch." She pointed to the floor, the used to be cleared floor, that now had the display sleeping bags from the outdoors area spread out, along with a bag of the popcorn he had proclaimed awesome and a couple of fountain drinks from the snack bar up at the front of the store.

"Lilly, I don't think-"

"Just sit," she snapped. He did, and she hit the play button on the DVD player that was on the shelf behind the television. The picture that came up on the screen was a full moon over a still lake, and the music that drifted out of the speakers was a haunting melody. Lilly sat down about a foot away from him and waited again.

"Is this the movie we saw on our first date?" Oliver asked with a half smile on his face.

"Yep." She watched him, but his expression stayed in that frozen half smile. His eyes didn't look away from the screen. "It feels like forever ago, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. It's weird that it was only a few years ago." He shook his head and the muscles in his jaw tightened as he looked down at the sleeping bags briefly before snapping his eyes back to the television.

"You know, most people like us, they wouldn't have been able to stay friends." Lilly paused to let her words sink in. "There would be all this, this _stuff _in the way."

"Stuff like what?" His hands clenched and unclenched on the surface of the sleeping back, the fabric crinkling with the movements.

"Like..." She sighed, searching for the right thing to say. "We're not like most exes who try to stay friends. We don't talk about new relationships with each other." She paused again, her toes flexing uncomfortably, and she rolled her eyes to gaze at the ceiling above them. "No dates, no sex, nothing. It makes for a lot less tension."

"Why are you telling me this?"

On the television screen, a blond girl was running across her living room, a killer in hot pursuit, and Oliver finally looked away from it, staring at the side of Lilly's face instead. Her cheeks were pink and she was chewing on her bottom lip.

"Because Ryan isn't interested in me. You don't need to be jealous."

"Jealous? Pfft. Why would I be jealous?" Oliver tried to play it off, but he couldn't keep up the nonchalance when he was still clenching his fists. "How can you be so sure he isn't interested anyway?"

"Because he's... not interested in girls."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Lilly shook her head, her cheeks still pink. "I thought... I didn't think you still... you know. If I had known you did I-"

He cut her off. "What? You wouldn't have broken up with me?"

"I thought that's what you wanted!"

"Me? You were the one that ended it, not me!" He shook his head vehemently, willing her to look at him.

Sighing, she asked, "so, you would still want to," and then turned to sneak a quick glance at him, but when her eyes met his, she couldn't look away from him or finish what she was saying.

"Lils, it's always been you." Oliver's voice was soft and he reached up, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, letting his finger tips tug gently on the ends.

"Always?"

"Always."

She wasn't sure how long they sat there, just staring at one another, both of them with goofy smiles on their faces, but it was long enough for the killer in the movie to claim another victim, the screams from the speakers startling both of them, making Oliver jump and Lilly giggle.

"You know," Oliver remarked, "I don't think I ever saw the end of this movie."

"Really?" Lilly turned from him to the screen and back again. "It's got a real twist at the end. I think you'll like it."

"I am a fan of twists," he agreed, leaning back against the display behind them and letting an arm settle around her shoulders.

***

Lilly woke to a the nervous voice of a teenage boy coming to her from far away. It was a little scratchy and accompanied by the shining of fluorescent lights high over head.

"Seriously, you have to wake up. My boss'll kill me."

She squinted, trying to figure out why there was a teenage boy worried about his boss in her apartment, and why it felt like all the lights were on, only to find herself curled against Oliver in a sleeping bag on the floor of a store. The events of the previous night came rushing back to her and she hurriedly shook Oliver awake.

"What?" he groaned.

"You have to wake up," she hissed in his ear. "The store's opening!"

"The store? Did we need to go to the store?" His voice was laced with sleep and confusion, and Lilly found it adorable that he didn't question that it was Lilly who was attempting to shake him awake, only that there was a store involved.

"Oliver!" she yelled, and he sat straight up.

"I'm awake!"

"When they encourage you to try out the merchandise, this isn't really what they mean," the store employee in his red smock said to them, a dazed expression on his face.

"Yes. Well, you see, we, uh, you know what? It's not important." Oliver shook his hair out of his eyes and climbed to his feet. "I'll buy everything I used."

Lilly rolled her eyes, pulled on her high heels and stood as well. As she walked over to the DVD player to retrieve the disc for the movie they had fallen asleep watching, the employee tried to whisper to Oliver, "dude, is that your girlfriend? She's totally hot!"

Lilly whirled around, stepping right up to the boy, DVD in hand and said, "no, we're just friends who like to sleep together on occasion, is that alright with you?" It wasn't that she objected to be called hot, or Oliver being asked if she was his girlfriend, it was just the way he said it, and besides, it wasn't any of his business, even if he had just found them in the middle of the floor when he came in for the opening shift.

At the shocked expression on his face, Oliver stifled a laugh and gathered up the items Lilly had left behind on the floor. He found himself at the cash registers a little while later paying for a pack of band-aids, a bottle of antibacterial spray, a bag of popcorn, two sodas, a movie, and two sleeping bags.

"So, what are you going to do with the sleeping bags?" Lilly asked him as she helped carry one of them out to his car, wincing every so often.

"I don't know, you're the one who said you wanted to go camping last night."

"You mean what we just did, that didn't count as camping?"

"No, I don't think so." Oliver laughed as he unlocked the doors to the car in the early morning light. "You really should have let me buy you some other shoes though."

"I told you, my feet will be fine. You act like I've never worn heels before." She shook her head as she got in and added, "and now that I have my purse back, I can pay you for the band-aids and everything."

"Not a chance. I paid on our first date the last time around, I'm paying this time." Oliver buckled his seatbelt while he spoke, his keys ready in the ignition.

Lilly froze in her seat. "So this was a date?" She made a sound in the back of her throat. "Funny, I don't remember being asked out."

"Oh, you don't? Cause I thought I asked you to go with me to the exhibit last night, and you said yes." He turned to smile at her.

"You never told me it was a date." She smiled back at him.

"So you want to just stay friends who spend the night together on occasion then?" he laughed.

"Not a chance," she repeated the phrase he had used only moments ago. "I only spend the night with my boyfriend now," Lilly said before quickly kissing him on the cheek. "Now take me home so I can change. This dress isn't very comfortable."

***


	16. P is for prank phone calls

**A/N: For those of you who've read my other stories, this one was actually sparked by a conversation Lilly and Oliver had in a one shot I wrote a while back. Oliver had been teaching her little brother jokes to use while he prank called a neighbor. This is the background for that idea. Enjoy.**

***

P is for prank phone calls.

The eyes of eight-year-old Lilly Truscott opened wide, her gaze zeroing in on the trio of teenagers in the living room. She was fairly certain they weren't supposed to be doing what they were doing.

"Is your refrigerator running?" One of the teenage boys asked. His hair was spiked up several inches off his head, the tips bright blue, and he was in the process of shrugging off his leather jacket. "Then you better go catch it!" He and his more conservatively dressed friend, the one who had his arm around the baby-sitter's shoulders, roared with laughter.

The baby-sitter rolled her eyes indulgently as the phone was hung up. She fluffed her hair around her shoulders and flashed her million watt smile at the boy who still had his arm around her, but he wasn't paying any attention to her, too busy using his other hand to high five his friend. Lilly's eyes widened even further when he finally turned to her, after recounting the entire phone conversation in a falsetto with the other kid, and kissed her on the cheek. The baby-sitter smiled, but her face fell into a pout when the guy with the spiky hair began dialing a new number.

"Look, guys, it was funny the first couple of times, but I don't want to get in trouble, okay? These people pay me triple what the other parents do." She looked a little worried now, one of her hands placed on her boyfriend's chest, trying to get him to see things her way.

"Just one more, and then we'll stop. Promise."

Lilly leaned her head just a bit passed the door jamb, the top of her head fully in the room now.

"What are they doing?" hissed Oliver. He was behind her, waiting for her to fill him in, too scared of the teens in his living room to actually go in. His mother had told him stories about kids with spiky hair, and he was pretty sure she wouldn't lie to him.

"They're using the phone." Lilly held up a hand to silence him when he tried to ask another question, trying to hear what the boys were saying again. "I think they're telling jokes."

"Really?" he asked eagerly, forgetting his earlier fears and shoving her out of the way to stand in the opening between the dining and living rooms.

"Hey, Oliver," his baby-sitter said sweetly, just as the phone was hung up again.

"Hi, Tammy," he responded nervously when he saw that everyone was looking at him.

"I thought you were playing Candy Land with your friend."

"She beat me." There was a pause, and he shuffled his feet on the carpet. Lilly rolled her eyes from her spot behind the wall. He was always such a sore loser. "What are you doing?"

"My friend was just using the phone," Tammy explained, giving a small smile. "They're leaving soon though. Aren't you?"

Neither of the boys responded to her question, just shifting in their seats.

"Mrs. Oken said you couldn't have boys over," Lilly said, tiptoeing out from where she had hidden. She hadn't wanted to get involved, but Oliver's eyes were shining while he looked back and forth from Tammy's long blond hair to the boy with the phone.

"Well, you're not gonna tell her, are you, little lady?" It was the boy with the spikes who asked the question, standing from his perch on the arm of the couch and kneeling just in front of her and Oliver. He raised one hand and tapped her gently on the end of her nose with a smile.

"I'm not that little," she told him stubbornly. And she wasn't. According to her dad, she had grown a whole inch over the last year. He had even marked it on the wall next to her closet like people did in the movies.

"No, I guess not." He agreed, still smiling. "My name's David, what's your's?"

"Lilly."

"Well, Lilly, have you ever tried to prank call anyone before?"

"No." She crossed her arms over her chest, doing her best impersonation of her mom when she was being bossy and all mom-like. It didn't scare David though. Probably because he was about twice her size.

"You want to?"

Before she could say anything, Oliver answered for her.

"Yeah." He nodded enthusiastically. Lilly's head swiveled to him, surprised that he said yes so quickly.

"Alright Sport, who do you want to call?" David led Oliver over to an open phone book on the coffee table and Oliver eagerly looked at the page David opened to at random. His finger moved slowly down the paper.

"Hey, look, Lilly!" He gestured to a name. "This one's on our street."

Lilly kept her arms crossed, not saying anything, but her head tilted slightly to the side, so Oliver knew she was interested.

"I don't think that's a good-" Tammy started to protest, deciding to do her job as the devoted baby-sitter she was supposed to be before it was too late.

"Aw, come on, Tams, live a little. He wants to." The unnamed boy seated next to her tightened his grip around her shoulders, tucking her into his side with a smile, and she caved.

"Fine. But only one call!" She pointed a finger threateningly at her charge and Oliver answered her with a smile while David asked him to think of a good joke. Oliver scrunched his forehead up, scrolling through every piece of humor his second grade mind could come up with.

When his face relaxed, David asked him, "you got one?"

"Yep!"

"Alright, here we go." David glanced from the white page of the phone book to the keypad of the phone as he dialed. When he finished, he brought it up to his ear, checked to see if there was a ringing on the other end of the line, then placed the phone up to the side of the little boy's head.

Even though she wanted to glare at him or tell him how stupid he was being, Lilly couldn't help but be intrigued. What joke was he going to use? Would the person on the phone yell at him? Was he going to get in trouble later? She bit the tip of her tongue while she waited to find out, rocking back on her heels in anticipation.

"Hello?" Oliver asked, trying not to giggle. "Do you know why six was afraid of seven?" He paused, presumably listening to the other person on the line. "No, because seven ate nine, silly." As he started to giggle, David moved to take the phone from him, but Oliver held on tight, and Lilly's mouth fell open as he kept talking. "I know. Everybody in my class always laughs at my jokes," he said proudly. "Yep. I'm in second grade."

There was a flurry of activity then as all three of the teenagers tried to grab the phone from him, but he quickly scampered away, toward Lilly, and she could only watch in shock. He tripped over his own two feet, landing in an arm chair, and Tammy whispered, "hang up the phone."

"Wow. That's really old." Another pause and Tammy and her boyfriend were both off the couch now, hopping over the table and diving for the armchair. "My name's Oliver. What's your name?" A few seconds later, he giggled again, saying "chocolate chip cookies are my favorite," and Tammy attempted to snatch the phone away from him. He hurriedly tossed it to Lilly.

"Um, hi?" she said uncertainly, her fingers trembling around the plastic.

"Well, hello there. Who is this?" The voice belonged to a woman and she sounded much, much, older than Lilly, or even Tammy.

"Lilly."

"Are you Oliver's sister?"

Lilly backed up against the wall behind the chair where Oliver had landed. David and Tammy were both trying to get to her now, edging slowly around the chair. "No, he's my friend. We're best friends."

"That's so sweet. How long have you been best friends?"

"Forever," Lilly said, sitting down on the floor, trying to stay out of reach, but the space behind the chair wasn't small enough. Tammy swept the phone from her hand and put it to her own ear.

"I'm so sorry about that. I'm baby-sitting and they just got away from me. They won't bother you again." She hung up, not waiting for any kind of response, breathing heavily. Her cheeks were a bright shade of red and she looked anything but happy.

Lilly and Oliver wound up spending the rest of the afternoon locked in Oliver's room playing boardgames and putting puzzles together. Tammy wouldn't let them anywhere else in the house, paranoid that she would get into trouble.

As it turned out, neither of them got her into any trouble, but a woman who lived down the street, the woman who was listed in the phone book, called later that night to let Mrs. Oken know that she was available for baby-sitting if their family needed someone. When Mrs. Oken discovered why she was receiving this particular phone call, she called Lilly's mother right away to let her know just what it was their second graders had been up to directly under the nose of the teenage girl who was supposed to be watching them. The two women had their kids march right on over to the house in question the following afternoon to apologize.

"What if she's mean?" Lilly whispered to Oliver while they walked down the sidewalk.

"She didn't sound mean on the phone," he whispered back.

"Neither does my mom," she mumbled, glancing over her shoulder. Heather Truscott was walking a few paces behind them, making sure they actually went to the woman's house and didn't just run down the street to play before coming home and saying they apologized. Nancy Oken probably would have been more effective of a guard, but she was working a double shift at the police station.

The two of them reached the porch of the bright yellow single story house and stood there in silence for minute, just staring up at the green front door. There was a row of sunflowers growing under the front window, matching the paint colors, and about a dozen windchimes hanging from the ceiling of the porch, most of them made from sea shells, but there was one of bottle caps strung together, and a one that was created from pieces of carved bamboo.

Lilly shuffled her feet along the edge of the porch and elbowed Oliver in the side, pushing him closer to the door. He stood on his toes to reach the doorbell and gave it a push, then looked back at Mrs. Truscott, who was standing behind the two of them, waiting expectantly.

"Maybe she's not home," Lilly called to her mother when no one came to the door. Oliver nodded in agreement, but Heather raised an eyebrow and stepped forward to press the button again.

With a creak, the door opened and a small woman with wrinkled skin the color of caramel stood in front of them. She tightened her purple housecoat around herself and asked, "Can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm Oliver, and this is Lilly." He pointed to her as he spoke. "Are you Miss Thomas?"

"Why, yes I am. It's so nice of you to stop by." She smiled, the lines around her eyes crinkling as she did so. "Always good to put a face to a voice."

"Um, we just wanted to say we were sorry for bothering you yesterday," Lilly said softly, her eyes open as far as they could go as she looked up at the woman. Oliver was right; she did seem really old. How old had he said she was? Seventy-seven? Lilly had never met someone that old before. She decided that people must dry up as they get older, like grapes that became raisins. That's why there were so many lines in her skin, why she looked so small for a grown up.

"Oh, it wasn't a bother at all. I love hearing new jokes." Miss Thomas winked at Oliver. "You got any more?"

"Hmm..." He furrowed his brow and thought, but Mrs. Truscott interrupted before he could actually tell a joke.

"Miss Thomas, we, uh, we really want them to know how bad of an idea it is to just call people they don't know..." She gave her a stern look, wanting the other woman to understand.

"Oh!" Miss Thomas nodded her head quickly, and said, "Of course, of course. You really shouldn't call people if you don't know them. They might not be as nice as me. You know, they might not like baking chocolate chip cookies or hearing a good joke." She raised her eyebrows at Lilly, and Lilly tried hard not to giggle. "Tell you what," she directed her attention back to Heather, "how about if you loan me these little ones once a week as their punishment. They can help me out around the house." She saw the doubt on the younger woman's face, so she hurried to add, "I'm seventy-seven, you know, and my family doesn't live near by, so I don't have a lot of help." She paused and sighed before continuing, "I'm sure it would really teach them a lesson."

Lilly pursed her lips together and tried to appear apologetic. Miss Thomas smelled like peppermints and she seemed really nice. Lilly was almost positive it would be more fun to help her around the house than have another new baby-sitter. Oliver's brow was still knitted together, trying to think of a joke.

"Well, I'll have to talk about it with Oliver's parents, and my husband, but I'm sure we can work something out." Heather gave a thin smile and said, "again, sorry to bother you. Come on you two, let's get Oliver home for dinner." She started walking down the sidewalk, holding a hand out to her daughter.

Lilly walked slowly, taking as much time as she possibly could, waving to Miss Thomas, but Oliver didn't follow. Instead, he tugged gently on Miss Thomas's hand and said, "I thought of one."

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

Lilly had already grabbed a hold of her mother's hand, but she dug her heels in, twisting to look over her shoulder. She wanted to hear the joke, and she wanted to see what was going to happen.

"What's black and white and red all over?"

"I don't know. What?"

"A penguin with a sunburn!"

Oliver dissolved into giggles as Miss Thomas told him, "that's a real good one," and Lilly smiled.

Yep. Miss Thomas was going to be lots of fun. She was certain.

And a lot of fun Miss Thomas was. For about a year after the prank calling incident, Lilly and Oliver would spend one day a week with the woman, doing anything and everything she asked. They fed the cats. They pulled weeds. They helped her put together jigsaw puzzles. They sorted through expired food in the pantry. They washed the car, though that one was a bit harder than they anticipated, and Lilly went home sopping wet because Oliver couldn't control the water hose, or at least, that was his story. They dusted. They helped her make scrap books for her grandchildren. They helped her wrap presents for major holidays. And they even helped out in the kitchen, though Lilly did drop quite a few shells in when Miss Thomas tried to teach her how to make an omelet. Miss Thomas even taught them how to make their own windchimes.

But, over the next few years, the visits were toned down quite a bit. When she entered high school, Lilly was still visiting Miss Thomas about once a week when she could, but usually just to bring her groceries or baked goods since the woman didn't get out too much on her own anymore.

In fact, one day, almost exactly eight years after the phone call, Lilly walked up to Miss Thomas's house with a container of her finally perfected baked macaroni and cheese, only to be confronted with a ladder leaning against the front of the house, and Miss Thomas in her favorite house coat, leaning heavily on her cane, yelling instructions to the boy at the top of it.

"You better watch your step up there," Miss Thomas called. "You're awful close to the loose part of the gutter!"

Shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand, Lilly squinted up at the figure. He looked vaguely familiar, but the sun was too bright for her to get a good look at him. He was using one of those long metal poles with a weirdly shaped hook to scrape leaves from the rain gutters. Bits of brown and gold were raining down on the freshly mown lawn. Lilly hadn't noticed before now, but Miss Thomas's yard was always very well maintained.

"Did you hire a gardener?" she asked.

"Hire a gardener? No way. My yard work is done for free every two weeks," Miss Thomas told her proudly. "But, what are you doing here? I thought you had plans with that friend of yours. What was her name? Millie?"

"Miley." Lilly smiled and showed her the covered casserole dish in her hands. "I've been working on your macaroni and cheese recipe, and I think I got it right this time. I thought I'd bring it by. I've got an hour before I need to go meet Miley."

"Perfect!" Miss Thomas leaned closer to her and mock whispered. "I bet my gardener is starving. He usually gets a few chocolate chip cookies as a trade, but I have a feeling he'll like this better."

"I'll go get some plates," Lilly responded, shaking her head in amusement. She only knew one person who would take cookies in trade for cleaning out rain gutters.

By the time Miss Thomas had come in to her own kitchen, Lilly had plates of the pasta set out, along with glasses of iced tea. She was just placing forks at each of the three seats when Oliver came through the doors, covered in lawn clippings and sweat. Somehow, she wasn't surprised that it had been him up on the roof.

"Aw, Lils, you didn't have to bring me lunch," he teased. He moved forward, arms open as though he was going to give her a hug, but she scrunched her nose up and took a step back.

"I didn't make it for you! Miss Thomas is just so nice, she's going to share it with you." She sat down, but he was still walking toward her. "And don't touch me, you're all gross!"

Miss Thomas chuckled and took a bite of the pasta. "You know, you might be right."

"Oliver is gross?" Lilly asked hopefully.

"No, I think you got the recipe right."

"Wait, you made this?" Oliver questioned after he sat down, poking the macaroni on his plate with his fork, testing its consistency.

Lilly was tempted to throw something at him, but since this wasn't her house, she refrained, settling for a glare. "I can cook, you know. I don't know why you're always so surprised."

"Mmm hmm," Miss Thomas agreed, "you know that apple pie I had last week? She made that."

"Really?"

"Again with the surprise," Lilly remarked, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

Oliver devoured two helpings of the pasta and downed his glass of iced tea in record time before heading back out to finish the gutters. It was Lilly who washed the dishes while Miss Thomas told her all about the last set of jokes she had heard.

"Your brother, he's pretty funny. Don't tell Oliver, but I think he might be funnier than he was."

Lilly decided it was better not to tell her that her brother learned all of his jokes from her best friend.

"So, Oliver's been doing all of your yard work for you?" she asked casually while she rinsed off a plate and placed it in the drain.

"Yep. Has been ever since his mom said it was okay for him to use the lawn mower when he was eleven or so." She paused, as though in thought. "But don't tell his dad. He worries a lot. He'd probably have a heart attack if he knew I let Oliver up on the roof."

"Yeah, I know. Mr. Oken's pretty safety conscious."

"It's funny you two never come over at the same time anymore. Ya always just miss each other... We used to have lots of fun doin' all my puzzles."

"Yeah. We did, didn't we?" Lilly rinsed off another plate in silence. After drying her hands on a dish towel, she said, "Miss Thomas, I'll be right back, okay?" She jogged out to the front lawn, and instead of yelling up the ladder as the other woman had, she climbed about halfway up and said to Oliver in a normal voice, "Hey, Oliver?"

"Yes?" He glanced over his shoulder, then realized Lilly was just a few steps below him. "What are you doing? This is only supposed to hold one person!" He scrambled up the last few rungs until he was sitting on the edge of the roof. Apparently, he did take after his dad in a few areas.

Lilly climbed up the next few steps and ignored the look he was giving her. "What are you doing after you finish this?"

He shrugged. "Going home and showering, why?"

"I thought you might want to hang out here for a while. Maybe do a puzzle." She gripped the top rung of the ladder as she spoke.

"Well, sure, but, you're going shopping with Miley, right?"

"I'm gonna call her. Tell her I have something I need to do."

And every weekend for the next two months, Lilly showed up bright and early on Saturday mornings. She would weed through what had once been the flower bed for the sunflowers while Oliver mowed the lawn. Miss Thomas sat on the porch, sometimes engaging them in conversation, sometimes just listening to the windchimes. And they would all have lunch and work on a puzzle. It was just like being eight years old again. Except that now, when she fought with Oliver, Miss Thomas never told them to behave. She would always just smile at them, sometimes give a quiet chuckle.

At the end of the two months though, Miss Thomas announced that she was moving in with her beloved grandson, the one that had lived so far away, so the last visit was spent helping her pack. Lilly was rewarded for her help with a notebook full of recipes Miss Thomas expected her to perfect. (She didn't know what Oliver received; he never told her, but she did see the collection of windchimes on the Oken front porch grow considerably.)

"But, how am I going to know if they're right?" Lilly asked, thumbing through the pages in front of her. "I can't bring them over for you to try."

Oliver struggled by the two of them, lugging a garbage bag out to the curb and Lilly hugged the notebook to her chest protectively.

"He's tried just about everything I've ever written in there," Miss Thomas told her with a nod. "I'm sure he'd be willing to sample your cooking."

The night that Lilly tried making the peach cobbler listed on the first page of the notebook, she got a phone call.

"Hey, Lils."

"Yeah?"

"I thought of a good one that I never used before."

She knew without an explanation that he meant a joke he had never told their former neighbor. "What's that?"

"What did one snowman say to the other?"

"I don't know." Before he could tell her though, the timer went off on the oven and she cut him off with the clearing of her throat. "Hey, you wanna come over and try my peach cobbler? It just finished." There was a knock on the back door almost as soon as she was done asking.

He told her the cobbler was perfect and ate three pieces in quick succession. She told him that he had to be the one to break the news that there were no more phone calls to Miss Thomas in her little brother's future.

"I smell carrots," Oliver informed her as he finished his final piece.

"What?" Lilly's eyebrows shot up while she poured herself a glass of juice.

"That's what one snowman said to the other."

In spite of herself, she giggled. "Yeah, that's pretty cute."

***


	17. Q is for queen of hearts

Q is for Queen of Hearts.

"Ergh."

Nose scrunched up in disgust, Lilly watched yet another girl at the end of the hall begin squealing at the card/flower/whatever she found in her locker. It was a freaking epidemic.

And didn't these girls find it kind of creepy that guys just magically had their locker combinations?

She glanced around suspiciously as she walked the hall.

It wasn't that Lilly didn't approve of romantic gestures or teenagers falling in love, or at least giving in to their hormones. It was just that the students at Seaview High seemed to have gone into overdrive this year. And it was all because of this stupid dance.

Sandals clicking on the tiled floor of the hallway, Lilly cocked her head, nose still scrunched, and surveyed her locker. On it was an offensively bright sheet of pink paper with white hearts all over it. Red lettering gave the details for the dance that would be taking place in the ballroom of an expensive hotel on the beach. Because for some reason, student council was pulling out all of the stops.

And down at the very bottom of the page was the line "don't forget to cast your vote for the Queen of Hearts."

Ugh. It was enough to make you sick.

It wasn't even like this was the seniors' Prom or anything. It was a school wide dance. In the gym. But it had become the biggest thing in Malibu since the last time Hannah Montana had thrown a free impromptu concert. And Lilly was, quite frankly, sick of hearing about it. She angrily ripped the flier from the metal panel, balling it up between both palms, packing the paper tighter and tighter. If she could have ground it into sand, she would have.

Directly behind her, she heard the stutters of Saint Sarah as a cute upperclassman asked her to the dance. Lilly groaned and wrenched open her locker.

"What's the matter, Lils? No date for the dance?"

Lilly ignored the voice and switched out her Math book for her Spanish, grabbing her sweater before she slammed the door shut. On the other side of it was Oliver, casually leaning against the bank of lockers, his eyes scanning the giddy girls in the hall. He chuckled as Sarah bounced up and down, a dreamy expression on her face while she recounted the story of the upperclassman to another girl.

"Don't you have a girlfriend you could be bothering?" Lilly snapped, trying to walk by him.

Oliver, however, easily kept in stride with her. "Normally, yes, but, she's out with strep throat, remember? I took her chicken soup yesterday. I think she's off her meds."

"Why don't you go somewhere else and text her or something?" Lilly grumbled. She then plastered on a fake smile and said brightly. "I'm sure she'll be better by this weekend and you can take her to the dance too!"

"You really don't have a date, do you?" Oliver deadpanned before breaking into a sly smile.

"I wouldn't go, even if someone asked me," she retorted, her head held high, walking purposefully away from him, the fake smile quickly falling from her lips.

He simply hustled after her, draping an arm around her shoulders. "You do know you sound a little bitter, right?"

"I'm not bitter!" Lilly hissed. "I just think everyone is taking this whole dance thing way too seriously! I mean, there are so many other things going on in the world! What about saving the whales or giving books to underprivileged children or something? What about working for world peace?" Her voice had taken on a shrill tone, and by the end of her question, several eyes were turned in their direction, and Lilly realized she had stopped them in the middle of the hallway. She laughed weakly and Oliver pulled her down the hallway. "Besides, Valentine's Day is this completely contrived holiday made so that people who are perfectly happy on their own are made to feel completely lame because they don't have someone who puts their arm around them when they walk places, or someone who will talk with them until three in the morning about nothing, or..." she trailed off, realizing that she could easily be describing the way she interacted with either of her best friends instead of with a boyfriend.

"Somebody doesn't have a date for the dance, huh?" Miley's southern drawl asked from the classroom door they reached. She had been waiting for them.

"Why do people keep asking me that?" Lilly almost screeched the words out. "I don't want to go to the dance!"

"You don't?" Miley's lower lip jutted out, sparkling with freshly applied peach lip gloss. "I thought you were gonna hang out with me so I don't have to dance with Oliver all night... You know, we could get all dressed up, and I could do your hair..." Miley pouted a little more in response to the icy stare Lilly's blue eyes aimed at her.

"Forget it, Miles. I'm not going, so you won't have to dance with me, and Lilly doesn't want to go." Oliver laughed as Miley's expression changed from disappointed to bewildered.

"Why aren't you going?" She followed Lilly and Oliver into the classroom.

"Joanie's got strep, remember? Apparently, it would not be proper boyfriend etiquette if I went without her."

"I thought you said she was getting better," Lilly inquired as she slid into her seat, forgetting about her slight tantrum in the hall.

"She is, but her mom doesn't want her to go just in case." Oliver shrugged. "Not a big deal." He bent down at his desk, rifling through his backpack to come up with the right notebook. "I'll probably just do a movie night or something." He decided against telling them that he had been planning to go until he went over to see Joanie yesterday and she had repeatedly complained about not being able to go, even though she hated wearing dresses, and she wasn't supposed to be talking.

Both girls watched him with wide eyes, surprised that the only one of them in an actual relationship wasn't going to go to the dance that the rest of the school seemed to be making such a big deal out of.

"Boys," Miley scoffed. She quickly turned the subject around. "Do you think I could be in the running for Queen of Hearts? I've never gotten to be a Homecoming... well, anything. So, this would be so cool!"

"Miley, we've only had two homecoming's since we got to high school, and you missed both of them for your other life, remember?" Lilly shot out, her eyes hard. "Besides, seniors usually have the votes locked down."

Miley, wisely, stopped all talk of anything related to the dance.

It took two days for her to convince Lilly to go with her.

She tried, "I promise we'll have fun," but that didn't work. So, she switched to, "I saw the cutest dress at the mall that would be perfect for you. Too bad you don't have somewhere to actually wear it," but Lilly just rolled her eyes. Oliver bet Miley ten bucks she couldn't get Lilly to go. Then, she started playing dirty. "I'll give you two pairs of my Hannah shoes," was coupled with "I'll buy your ticket," and Lilly finally caved, agreeing to a marathon shopping session Wednesday after school.

Oliver spent the trip sitting outside fitting rooms and playing tetris on his phone. Normally, he would be all for a trip to the mall, but this one was being spent solely on dresses and makeup for the girls, which he could do without. Especially since he wasn't even going to get to go to this dance. Even Lilly hadn't let him go look at the guy in the center who had been painting custom surfboards, though she had refused to come out and show him any dresses she tried. Miley pulled just about every dress off the rack she could find (within her reasonable color palette) and demanded Lilly try them all on, at every store that had items in her size. But Lilly seemed to hate them all. And practically threw the offending garments over Miley's head when she came to check on her.

"You do realize you're bringing her all of the pink, red, and white dresses, right?" Oliver asked finally. He hadn't even glanced up from the screen on his phone for the last twenty minutes, but the various shades were unmistakable out of the corners of his eyes. Miley hadn't thought he even knew that the sun had set, much less which dresses she had been picking out for Lilly.

"Lilly looks good in pink!" she protested.

"Yeah, she does," he agreed slowly, then rushed to add, "but she's very anti-Valentine this year, so those aren't good colors."

"Then, why don't you pick out her dress?" Mily snapped.

Oliver barely looked in Miley's direction as he pointed to a deep purple sheath dress that had exposed stitching on the sides and a spray of small black stars along the left front of the skirt.

"She's gonna hate that," Miley grumbled, a little deflated, as she saw that Lilly's size was hanging in the first slot on the rack. She pulled the hanger from the display and took it into Lilly.

"Hey," Lilly called after she had slipped it on. "This is kind of cool." She surveyed herself in the small mirror before hesitantly turning the doorknob and tip toeing outside to get Miley and Oliver's reaction. Her dark eyeliner and shadow and the clear lip gloss she was wearing made the dress look dramatic without her having to really glam herself up.

"Hrmph." Miley crossed her arms over her chest, seated on the arm of Oliver's chair now. "It's nice."

Lilly waited, fiddling with the price tag that was hanging through the hem. Maybe the dress was too short. Or maybe it wasn't bright enough for Miley's taste. "Nice?" She echoed Miley's word. "I thought you picked it out."

"Nuh uh. He did." Miley poked Oliver in the shoulder as she spoke, hard enough that he stopped playing his game and slid his phone back into his pocket, pretending he had been paying attention.

Lilly tried not to smile in satisfaction as she watched Oliver do a double take, his gaze trailing from her face to where the skirt stopped just above her knees. "What do you think?" She hated that she was holding her breath, hoping he would be honest about how it looked. She could see in his face how he thought it looked. It fit her in all the right places. But she wanted him to say it. Even though he was her best friend and his girlfriend had been sick with strep throat and she really didn't even care about the stupid dance.

"Yeah," he said, swallowing hard, "it's nice. You should wear that." He nodded his head quickly, then looked away. "Isn't it getting late? Don't you guys have homework? Cause I have homework." He stood up, crossing his arms, and adopted a scowl similar to Miley's.

Lilly rolled her eyes, sighed, and spun on her heel to change back into her clothes. She didn't know what she had expected. It wasn't like this was a cheesy chick flick where he would realize his girlfriend was all wrong for him just because his best friend looked good in a dress.

"What is your problem?" Miley asked him.

"What do you mean?"

The next day was just as eventful as the day before, and Lilly was even less happy with the results than she was the night before. Joanie was back at school, though she didn't say anything about the dance that would be held Friday night. Actually, she didn't say much at all because she was supposed to be saving her voice.

Lilly wasn't sure if that meant Joanie and Oliver were going or they weren't. Not that she cared or anything. Oliver could go to the dance with his girlfriend if he wanted to. It was just... if Joanie's mom had wanted her to be extra careful, wouldn't she have kept her out of school for the rest of the week? It didn't seem like a good idea to expose the whole school to her germs. And then, adding to her mood, was Miley who was suddenly floating on air at the end of the school day.

"What's with you?" Lilly questioned as she pulled the books she needed to take home from her locker.

Miley didn't answer, just leaned against the bank of metal lockers and stared at the ceiling with a strange smile on her face.

"Hello! Earth to Miley!"

"What?" she answered breathlessly. Her eyes were sparkling and there was a suspicious color rising in her cheeks.

"Someone asked you to the dance." Lilly didn't need to make it a question. The answer was obvious. She shook her head while Miley began to sputter and try to think of something to say. "I am not going to be the third wheel on your little date."

"What? You wouldn't be a third wheel. There's a whole group of people going." Miley nodded her head emphatically, but Lilly shook hers with equal force, slammed her locker shut, and started down the hall. "Lilly, come one, it's gonna be so much fun. Student council has all kinds of cool activities planned. It's set up like a Valentine's Day carnival. There's a fortune teller, and a kissing booth, and, and..." She stopped at Lilly's glare and slumped her shoulders.

"I'm not going," Lilly repeated, eyes flashing.

A slight whistling sounded behind her, and Lilly braced herself for what she knew was coming, shoulders tightening.

"If you don't have a date for the dance tomorrow night, I would gladly accompany you." A deep breath and a whistle followed that as well.

Lilly tried to wipe the expression of horror from her face as she turned around and faced Nose Whistle Wally. He was a sweet boy, he really was, but he was also a little stalker-like. He had once brought her makeup bag to her in the girls' restroom when she left it in class and then didn't leave until she told him he had to go, and she had always been a little afraid of him since. Miley hurried down the hall, fighting a giggle fit as she left for a Hannah commitment.

"It's not that I don't have a date," Lilly explained, "I didn't want to go in the first place." She paused while he sneezed. "Bless you. And thanks, but I'm just gonna catch up on my reading for English or something." There wasn't actually any reading for her to catch up on, but they weren't in the same class, so she figured he wouldn't know that. She hurried to walk away while he sneezed again so she didn't have to keep talking to him.

On the way home from school, three more guys asked if she was interested in going to the dance with her, and though they were all slightly more desirable than Wally, she had her suspicions when Todd, someone she had known since grade school, pulled his jeep along side her and asked if she wanted to "chill" tomorrow. Instead of answering, she put her hands on her hips, rolled her eyes toward the sky and asked if he could drive her the last few blocks home.

"No problemo, dudette! Hop in."

Climbing awkwardly into her seat, and settling her bag in her lap, Lilly wondered why so many other short people liked cars so high up off the ground. Did they use step stools to get into the driver's seat or something? Not that Todd was short. She brushed the thought aside though. There were more important things to think about right now than the relationship between cars and height.

"So... you want to chill tomorrow night?" She waited only until Todd pulled off from the curb to ask the question. No point in beating around the bush. Like ripping off a band-aid.

"Totally. I'm gonna go to the V Day thing, and I thought we could hang out. You know, cause you're cool and not like those weird girls who spend all day at the place with the things they put over your head." He nodded enthusiastically and narrowly avoided hitting a little girl riding her bike.

"The salon?" Lilly said blandly, fighting the urge to clutch the door in fear. Todd wasn't exactly a focused driver.

"Yeah. That place. Weird name."

"What did Miley tell you?"

"Why would Miley tell me anything? She, like, never talks to me. Except in Spanish. She's always waking me up." Todd rolled his eyes, his tone letting Lilly know that being woken up in Spanish class was definitely one of his least favorite things.

"Right." Like she was going to believe that. Four guys had asked her the day before the dance. Not counting Wally. Because she knew that Miley knew better. And this had meddling Miley written all over it. There was no question. "Sorry, Todd. But, I think I'm just gonna stay home."

"It's cool. I'll just hang with the guys... but none of them will let me dance. They think I don't have good enough moves."

Lilly stifled a laugh.

"Dudette, I'm telling you, my moves are awesome."

"I bet." Lilly smiled, thanked him as he pulled up to her driveway and headed inside the house, only to be confronted by her mother and an armful of blouses.

"Which of these do you think makes me look the most professional?"

They were all shiny or silky or sheer and were in various shades of pink and red. The kind of things you might where for a Valentine's Day event. But they weren't exactly professional.

"Why?"

"I have to have dinner with a new client tomorrow night. It's my first major account on my own. And it needs to be perfect."

Her mother's eyes were wide with anxiety and she was doing that thing where she alternately clenched her jaw and blinked her eyes. It always gave Lilly a headache, but she just pointed to the least shiny and most opaque of the pale pink button downs. It was the least date-like, and the most conservative. Hands down, the best option.

"You sure?"

"Mom, it's perfect. Trust me." Lilly shook her head in annoyance and made her way to the stairs. It was best to run while she could before she had to go through her mother's entire makeup case for the most complimentary color pallet. She just wasn't in the mood for anymore pink.

"Okay, great. You can watch your brother tomorrow night, right?"

Smiling, Lilly felt a weight lift from somewhere in the middle of her chest. She finally had an excuse. Now, she really didn't have to convince Miley or Oliver that she didn't want to go to the dance because now she _couldn't go. _Perfect.

"Of course. No plans."

* * *

"What d'you mean you can't go? You were all set to go until someone asked me yesterday! Not having a date is not a big deal, Lilly!"

They were in the library, and they were supposed to be quietly researching, but Miley had been getting louder and louder as Lilly had made excuses about the dance. Several of the people around them snickered.

Rolling her eyes, Lilly explained, "my mom has a work thing, and she asked me to watch my brother."

"Make Oliver watch him."

"Make him?" Lilly echoed. Though she often made jokes about making Oliver do things for her, somehow it sounded worse when Miley said it. "I can't make him watch my brother. He isn't Oliver's brother." She shook her head in annoyance.

"I know." Miley sighed, shoulders slumped. "I just don't want you sitting at home, feeling sorry for yourself because you aren't out having fun with a cute boy and your best friend."

"I'll be fine," Lilly waved off the concern.

But that night, she was about to die of boredom. It was like the whole country knew that Seaview High had a dance that night or something. There was nothing on television. The radio played nothing but crappy music. And her brother didn't want to do anything but play video games. Lilly was sick of the nine-year-old beating her in a simulated martial arts contest. Not to mention, her mom would have a fit if she knew that Lilly was letting her brother play such a violent game.

"Why don't we take a break?" Lilly snapped, tossing the game controller on to the coffee table. "You can go shower or something."

"Fine." Her brother acted as though it was the worst request he'd ever received as he trudged up the stairs.

Leaning back on the couch, she closed her eyes and wondered how Miley's night was going. The dance had just started. She could picture Miley in something slinky and red, throwing back her head and laughing at something that was undoubtedly not as funny as her date thought, her eyelashes fluttering. Lilly rolled her eyes at the very thought. Instead, her mind wandered to Oliver. Was he spending his movie night with Joanie? She hadn't been in school again. Maybe he was actually being a good boyfriend and spending time with her. Joanie was always going on and on about what a good guy he was.

Lilly was jarred from her thoughts when the water for her brother's shower started upstairs at the same time that the doorbell rang. She would have tip toed forward and peeked through the curtain, but with all the lights on downstairs, whoever was there would easily see her before she saw them. Instead, she threw the door open and placed a scowl on her face, just in case.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Oliver waved a stack of DVDs in her face and his little brother bolted by the two of them and made a beeline for the staircase.

"Mark's in the shower!" She called after the rapidly disappearing head of brown hair. "What are you doing here?" Lilly asked Oliver in surprise.

"Umm... my girlfriend's sick, my parents are having a date night, and I know you like movies?"

"Oh, so I'm your third choice after your girlfriend and your parents to spend a Friday night with," Lilly teased him. She watched as his face turned a little red.

"No... I just-" He scratched the back of his neck nervously. "I thought it would be fun since neither of us is going to the dance. And... I was actually thinking about going to the dance with you... and Miley before you said you weren't gonna go, but I felt guilty after Joanie couldn't go. Her mom's threatening to ground her for the next month since she went to school yesterday without her permission."

Lilly nodded her head and bit the inside of her cheek. The dance could have been fun if she had been able to hang out with Oliver. Maybe. "What are we watching?" She opened the door wider, gesturing for him to come inside.

"I've got an assortment of Valentine's Day related horror movies." He smiled as she started laughing. "I thought you would appreciate those."

"Excellent."

While they watched a lot of pretty girls get hacked to bits by a jilted ex-boyfriend, their younger brothers played a computer game in the other room that, as far as Lilly could tell, required a lot shooting and growling.

"Do you think maybe we should check on them?" Lilly asked just before she cringed and tilted her head to the side, watching blood drip from a pipe on the screen.

"Nah, I'm sure they're fine," Oliver responded, suddenly clutching a pillow and holding it in front of his face. After a few moments, he lowered it and checked to make sure Lilly hadn't seen him. "So, uh... I'm sorry no one asked you to the dance," he offered timidly.

He watched in surprise as Lilly rolled her eyes.

"Oh, they asked all right."

"What d'you mean?"

"Nose Whistle Wally asked me when he heard Miley and me talking yesterday."

Oliver covered up his laugh with a cough, and motioned for Lilly to continue when she glared at him.

"And then there was that kid David who caught me before he went to swim practice. And Shawn asked after I tripped over the curb on my way out of the school. And Jeremy, you know, from science? He asked me when I was waiting to cross the street. Oh, and then there's Todd." She shook her head in amusement.

"What about Todd?" Oliver's brows knit together, not understanding why she was so entertained by this. He happened to know that Todd had once had quite the crush on Lilly.

"He almost drove right by me, but then he pulled over, drove me the rest of the way home from school and asked if I wanted to 'chill' with him at the dance." She giggled. "I figured out by then that Miley must have put them all up to it." Laughing louder, she added, "I just didn't want to go with any of them."

"Uh, Lils?" Oliver was almost afraid to tell her this since she was laughing so hard her face was becoming a bright shade of pink, not unlike the fliers that had been passed out for the dance.

"What?"

"Miley didn't tell anyone to ask you."

Her laughter slowly trailed off and she sat staring, her eyes a bit unfocused, at the television. "No, she must have. Because I- I- she had to."

He shook his head and gave her his best sympathetic expression when she looked in his direction.

"You mean?"

"They all asked you because they wanted to."

Lilly was silent another minute or so, then an ear splitting scream tore from the television speakers and yet another girl took off running from the killer. "Nah. That's ridiculous. It's not like I'm some sort of... queen of hearts or something."

"Hey, I would have voted for you," Oliver half teased.

"Yeah, sure." She smacked him over the head with a pillow and brought the discussion to an end.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so admittedly, probably not my best chapter of Lilly, Alphabetically. You're just going to have to let me get back on track. I've got a few outlines and ideas working, but I think I'm going to do NaNoWriMo this year with an original story idea, so this is the last (I think) you'll be seeing from me until December.**


	18. R is for realizations regarding reality

R is for realizations regarding reality.

Lilly Truscott had been accused, quite often, of being a drama queen, of letting her imagination run away with her, of not being entirely grounded in reality. Lilly preferred to think that she, quite simply, liked to consider all angles of a situation, no matter how ludicrous some of those angles might seem to other people. After all, you never knew when the lines between an overactive imagination (or a rich fantasy life) were going to blur with reality, now, did you?

Case in point: At the age of twelve, Lilly had spent a large amount of time, when she should have been doing her math homework, considering what it would be like to be famous. And, okay, so it wasn't like she had become famous or anything. But, only a year later, she found out one of her very best friends happened to be a pop star. It was one of those times when reality and fantasy had merged.

If her best friend could be a pop star, why couldn't other scraps of ideas floating around in the confines of her imagination drift out into the real world? What was stopping it? Was reality all that different?

As it turned out, yes, yes it was. Sometimes the differences were small. Other times, events occurred at such drastically different ends of the spectrum that Lilly wanted to know why she bothered with reality at all.

_Fantasy at 13: That she was really adopted and that her real parents were on the run from some sort of secret organization and would come and rescue her from the ill fitting pair of the weird accountant dad and makeup obsessed mom. Or maybe, she was really a princess in hiding... or her Hogwarts letter was late to arrive..._

_Reality: Her ill-fitting pair of parents announced their separation, and subsequent divorce as if they weren't a big deal at all. The only letter that arrived in the mail for her was a birthday card from her grandparents in Florida... two months late._

It wasn't really like anything changed all that much around the house. Her dad's stuff was gone, but her mom had always dominated the décor anyway. Now, her dad didn't have to pretend that he wasn't sleeping on the couch. And her mom could go back to working long hours, claiming that her ex-husband's child support checks didn't pay enough of the bills.

Lilly was sure that they would have plenty of money to pay the bills if her mom wasn't so quick to buy expensive perfume and fancy dresses. It wasn't like she had anywhere to wear them anyway.

And Lilly tried to convince herself that she was happy with her parents apart, because she knew they were both happier apart than they were together. But, there was still that small part of her that could hold out hope that they would get back together, until her dad started dating a waitress and her mom went out with Miley's dad. She started spending a lot more time at the Oken house, telling herself that the tugging she felt in the middle of her chest when she watched Oliver's parents together was just heartburn from the spicy food she liked. She wasn't wishing that her family was more like his. She didn't need a mom with a man voice or a dad who would have wrapped her in bubble wrap to prevent her from getting hurt.

_Fantasy at 14: Her life was really a novel. And the new guy at school was going to be a vampire/werewolf/alien who sparkled in sunlight/was super strong/had cool super powers like flying. He would sweep her off her feet, her soul mate. It would happen with no warning. And her heart would thud. And her blood would boil. And everything would be happily ever after._

_Reality: Her life was not novel-like. More like a cheesy sitcom where she was the butt of the writer's sick joke. Because Mr. Perfect wasn't a vampire/werewolf/alien, though he did get her blood boiling. Because he cheated on her with two other girls, and attempted to get Hannah Montana in his pocket too._

It wasn't even that she liked vampires. She found them kind of creepy. The blood drinking? Gross. The pale skin and no sunlight thing? That meant no beach days or surfing. The eternal life thing? It would get kind of boring. And werewolves and aliens would probably be just as freaky. But still, she thought Lucas would be perfect.

Instead, he was a no good cheating wart on a big monkey butt. And she dumped some shrimp over his head. And filled his locker with jello. And made sure that no girl in school would touch him with a ten foot pole, not even Amber and Ashley. She spread a few choice rumors concerning his cheating and what kind of... medications he might be on because of it. There may have been some talk of a rash or two that he didn't actually have.

And Lilly was surprised to find that her heart wasn't entirely broken by the experience. Not like she thought it would be. There were a few tears, sure, but nothing major. Maybe the revenge had done her some good. There was, instead, this dull anger that stayed at the back of her mind until Lucas moved away. And even then, there was a dullness in the place where the excitement should be when it came to boys. She told herself that she didn't want to be bothered with them. That boys were more trouble than they were worth... for now. And she concerned herself with hanging out with Miley and Oliver instead of finding the perfect boyfriend. Perfection was overrated anyway. If the guy was perfect, another girl would notice, coming along and stealing him right out from under her.

_Fantasy at 15: Joanie Palumbo would contract some deadly, and highly contagious disease for which there was no cure, forcing her to be quarantined from the rest of humanity for the remainder of her life... or at the very least, until some sort of vaccine could be created from monkey DNA or something._

_Reality: Joanie Palumbo would be an almost constant fixture in Lilly's life due to the unfortunate coincidence that the evil girl started dating Oliver Oken in the tenth grade._

It wasn't that Lilly hated Joanie, or that she really wanted to see her suffer some sort of horrible death... like falling out a thirty story building, or maybe flipping over the handlebars of a bicycle during a triathlon and ending up in a coma until she was eighty or something. It was just that every time Joanie made a snide comment in her direction, curled her lip up in disgust at something she said or did, or made an attempt to stick out a foot and trip her in the hall, visions of Joanie crumpled at the bottom of a stairwell, hooked up to monitors in a hospital, being wrapped in gauze because disgusting little pustules kept bursting into green liquid all over her skin, they all would run through her mind until she found one that she thought suited the crime. It was a reflex by now. She couldn't help it. That's what happened when you were ridiculed by the same person for almost an entire decade.

She forced herself to be nicer to Joanie when Oliver made a habit of eating lunch with her and actually (gag) holding her hand in public. But Lilly couldn't deny that the visions of Joanie in various states of pain and discomfort got more and more elaborate with every day that Joanie remained Oliver's girlfriend, even while she was slowly becoming her friend. Not that she believed there was any correlation between the visions and Joanie's prolonged exposure to Oliver's company.

If anyone had been privy to Lilly's thoughts, they might have thought that, in reality, Lilly was jealous of the other girl. Lilly preferred to hold on to the fantasy that Joanie was going to grow up to be a super villain straight out of a bad comic book, and then, her hatred would be justified. Because, jealousy, really? Lilly had decided she didn't do jealousy anymore. Boys weren't worth it. And Oliver wasn't a _real boy. _Oliver was Oliver.

_Fantasy at 16: That Oliver would wake up and smell the apple scented shampoo. Because Oliver was perfectly imperfect with his dorkish tendencies that could make her roll her eyes and giggle at the same time. He would push Joanie off a cliff and declare his love for her, and they would run away, avoiding the law together, on a romantic road trip._

_Reality: Oliver looked at her like he had woken up and smelled the apple scented shampoo, but he wasn't pushing Joanie off any cliffs. Instead, he was alternating between avoiding his girlfriend completely and killing her with kindness to make up for his absenteeism. He started avoiding being around Lilly and Joanie at the same time. Lilly silently seethed. And pined. And waited._

It wasn't that Lilly wanted Joanie to be hurt by Oliver. Not really. She and Joanie had reached some sort of agreement to get along. And somewhere along the way, they really did start getting along. Most of the time. There will still times where Lilly was tempted to lock her in a burning building or spread a vicious rumor about her, but the urge usually passed fairly quickly.

But even Lilly, who preferred her fantasy world to reality on occasion, could see that the relationship between Joanie and Oliver was as good as done. Instead of holding her hand in the hall, Oliver was staying behind in class to talk to teachers, then rushing to beat the bell, completely ignoring everyone he passed. And instead of going to Joanie's athletic competitions and cheering her on, Oliver was feigning sick, tucking himself into bed with plenty of movies to keep himself company. There were no more pet names either. It was simply Joanie and Oliver. Sometimes there was a sweetie or a honey thrown in for good measure.

But the one way Lilly measured the nearness of the end of the relationship was by the frequency and duration of the phone calls.

When Oliver first began dating Joanie, Lilly was lucky to have one conversation with him a week that lasted all of five minutes. After a couple of months, the conversations upped in frequency to two, maybe three times. But the conversations were still kept short. They didn't really need to talk on the phone anyway. They had classes together. They lived on the same street. They hung out at the same places. But, Lilly had grown used to talking to him all the time. And while her mother might have liked that she was using less minutes on her phone, Lilly wasn't so thrilled.

A few more months went by though, and they were up to ten minute conversations the few times they spoke. A couple of weeks after that and the text messaging started. A few more weeks and the phone calls were happening almost every day. The texting too. And then, it was multiple times a day. For longer and longer periods of time.

It was a Friday night when she got the phone call that asked her to come over and hang out. It was quick, to the point. No random discussions about chocolate being a food group or that skateboarder who broke his leg in three places.

And it was that same night that Oliver told her he broke up with Joanie. And he gave her that look while they were sitting in his room, supposed to be watching a movie.

And she decided that reality might not be so bad after all.

* * *

**A/N: I know, I know. Time got away from me this month. I had hoped to get a few more chapters of this done before the end of the year, but it just didn't happen. I hope you all had wonderful holidays, and I promise that 2011 will be full of more stories.**


	19. S is for sing along

**A/N: So, the idea for this chapter is actually from a message Muggle Minx sent me way back in August, and I know it took me forever to get to this, but I wanted to give credit where credit was due. I had notes for this sitting on my flashdrive ever since then, but it wasn't until recently that I actually tracked down the season three episode to get the dialogue. This takes place in "You Gotta Lose That Job."**

S is for sing along.

Humming to herself as she double checked to make sure all of her assignments were in her bag on Monday morning, Lilly paused to glance over at her phone. He still hadn't responded to her text message. She had wished him luck, told him she would make sure to be at school as early as possible, but he still hadn't even sent back a thanks.

He was nervous.

She knew that. That was part of the reason she was forcing Miley to go with her. Miley, who had been glued to her cell phone all weekend while she waited on a call back for a movie role. Miley, who, when Oliver informed them that he and his band were going to be auditioning to be the entertainment at the next school dance, had said, "are you going to do magic tricks?" And she had said it in a perfectly serious voice. Like she had missed the _band _part of his sentence.

Lilly sighed and tossed the strap of her backpack over her shoulder.

Sometimes, Miley could be particularly clueless. How had she never noticed all of the questions Oliver asked her about working in the studio or using the sound equipment on stage or tricks to calm your nerves before a performance? Being a performer was probably one of the few subjects Oliver had consistently done his homework for. And he had been stonewalling Lilly about it for almost an entire year now.

She knew he could play the guitar. She caught him strumming along the strings of one at the Stewart house when they were house sitting for the family a while back. She called him on it, asked what he was playing, but he just turned bright red and said that he had been taking some lessons, but he wasn't good enough yet. And then, he refused to acknowledge it had ever happened.

And Lilly had, for the most part, forgotten all about it. Or at least, other things had been preoccupying her mind instead. Like why she was still trying so hard to be nice to Joanie when Joanie got on her last nerve. Or why she hadn't gone on a date with any of the guys who asked her out for the last couple of months. Or why she found herself double checking her makeup every time a certain friend of hers said he was going to come over. She was confused. More confused than usual. And, as a result, she was trying a little harder to not pry into things Oliver didn't want her prying into.

At least, up until last week. Out of the blue, he had made an announcement.

"So... are you gonna come watch the guys and I audition for the school dance?"

He asked the question in between taking a huge bite of a sandwich and propping his feet up on the coffee table in the Stewart living room, so the words were a little garbled.

"What?" Lilly responded blankly. The three of them had been getting ready to pop the newest Kate Hudson movie into the DVD player, and she hadn't understood the question.

"I thought you would come watch the band. We're trying out to be the entertainment for the dance. I hear there's some pretty stiff competition." He grinned, but his eyes flicked back and forth between them like he was afraid of what they were going to say.

Lilly swallowed hard, a slow smile crossing her face as his eyes finally locked on hers, begging for a sign that he wasn't going to make a fill of himself.

And that was when Miley asked, "Are you going to do magic tricks?"

Lilly had hurried to interrupt, insisting that they would both be there to support him, and that she couldn't wait to see how good the band was. But he wouldn't tell her what song they were going to be doing. Lilly assumed they hadn't actually picked one yet. And Oliver, on guitar, probably didn't care one way or the other. He just wanted to play.

That's what she thought anyway. After all, he had been taking guitar lessons. It was only natural that he was the guitar player, right?

Imagine her surprise when she had to half drag Miley, reminding her all the while how important this was to Oliver, despite Miley's protesting that it was just a stupid school dance, into the empty room at school that was being used for the auditions, only to see Oliver standing in the spot for the lead singer in his best rock and roll outfit. She covered her surprise long enough to say hi while she and Miley moved a bit closer to the makeshift stage. She chose to ignore how much he looked the part of a rock star right now. And she only briefly thought about where his girlfriend was. Didn't he want her here too? Lilly was just thankful she didn't have to deal with Joanie this early in the morning.

"What's up, guys?" Oliver greeted. He may have been grinning widely, but Lilly could see the slight trembling in his hands as he leaned forward and braced them on his legs. "You know, thank you so much for being here. I can't believe how nervous I am."

Lilly couldn't believe he admitted it. He liked to put on a brave front, even if he was so scared, his voice was squeaking. There wasn't any squeaking here though. He was in control. "Oh, don't worry. You're gonna do great."

She grinned even wider than him, not paying any attention to what Miley was mumbling about. And she couldn't help but let her thoughts consume her, racing as they were. Oliver, with his graphic t-shirt and his black vest, dressed up with that stupid red and black striped tie she had given him as a gag gift one Christmas, looked like a real pop singer. Even though his fingers might have been shaking a little bit, he looked like he owned the stage. Lilly had never seen him look more comfortable in his own skin before. He wasn't tripping as he stepped back from the edge of the stage. He wasn't anxiously ruffling his hair, worrying about his appearance. He didn't appear to be panicking in the least. He looked like he was standing right where he belonged.

And confidence, real confidence, not the false bravado he usually put out, definitely suited him.

Mr. Meadows though, he wasn't in the let's-all-admire-the-newly-confident-Oliver-mood like she was, and he snapped out, "Oken, are you ready?" from his chair.

"Yes, sir."

"Go get 'em," Lilly said, maybe a little bit more giddily than she needed to.

"You're gonna do great," Miley encouraged, paying attention to what was going on for a whole five seconds.

Standing with her hands clasped in front of her, Lilly waited as the music began, hoping against hope that Oliver really was going to be great. She didn't want him to be disappointed. She didn't know if she could take the expression of sadness on his face if the performance bombed. And she couldn't help but wonder if the little boy he used to be was going to make an appearance and pass out in the middle of the stage. But the music started up, effectively cutting off coherent thought on her end.

_I need a kick drum. A guitar now. And a base line. _

It was only a few seconds, but Lilly wouldn't have been more shocked if someone had suggested that Miley actually had a third alter ego who dressed up in tights and a cape to thwart bank robbers in her spare time.

_And I'm a show you how, how to rock, how to dance, how to get down. All I need is a piano on my track now. _

He. Was. Singing. And he was good. Really good. Awesome even. When had this happened? Where was the thirteen-year-old who couldn't carry a tune to save his life? Where had he gone? Who was this guy holding on to the microphone and letting loose these lyrics like he had been doing this his entire life. Lilly was forced to admit to herself that Oliver Oken had grown up. And, she swallowed the thought nervously, he had grown up just the right way, hadn't he?

_Throw your hands, throw your hands, throw your hands up. Whoa oh oh. Whoa oh oh. Because you can't, cause you can't, cause you can't, cause you can't stop. Whoa oh oh. Whoa oh oh. _

"Wow," she told Miley in awe, a little breathless, "he's really good." She may have emphasized the words a little to much. But as Oliver stood there moving around to the beat of the pop-rock song Lilly had never heard before, she didn't care. She tapped her foot with the music, smiling as Oliver expertly maneuvered his microphone, probably looking like a hormonally driven groupie at a 1980s concert. She didn't know what to think or what to do. She couldn't stop focusing on Oliver. This was going to be a problem. She knew it. But she still didn't care.

"Yeah, great," Miley agreed distractedly, still trying to get a signal on her phone, not wanting to miss what she was sure was going to be the most important call of her career. Oliver's voice was barely in her ears. If she would have been paying attention even remotely, she would have been a tad worried about the expression on Lilly's face. She would have thought that maybe her friend was having some sort of epiphany that would forever change their friendship.

_Cause we're here and we're now and we're all together, so let's make this last forever. _

Tearing her gaze from the boy on stage, Lilly found that she wasn't the only one impressed with Oliver's abilities. "Hey, Mr. Meadows is likin' it too," she remarked to Miley, only to notice that Miley was no longer standing next to her. "Miley?" she asked, confused, when she saw her second best friend closer to the stage than she should be, searching for better reception for the phone. "Miley..." She had no choice. She had to get her off the stage, away from the band, and out of the line of sight of Mr. Meadows before Miley ruined this for Oliver.

Suddenly, this audition being perfect for Oliver was the most important thing in the world to her. And it hit her full force just why that was. How could she not have seen this earlier? The jealousy, the primping, the excitement. She liked him.

No. Like wasn't really working for her. It was more than that. She couldn't even call this an infatuation. If it was merely an infatuation, would she really have run through the back of the stage and done those awful jumping dance moves to mask the idiocy of Miley checking her phone? No. She probably would have smiled sympathetically.

No. This was... something else. Something different.

As Oliver's set ended, the three of them left the room. Miley, still compulsively checking her phone. Oliver, on a high from a performance well done. And Lilly. Lilly torn between being completely love sick and completely terrified. She would find herself staring off into space, humming to herself, visions of shaggy hair and silly ties playing in her brain with the words _so let's make this last forever _on repeat.


	20. T is for tie dyeing

T is for tie dyeing.

Picking her skateboard up from the sidewalk, Lilly eyed the house in front of her with mild curiosity. It looked like a normal enough house. You would never know that a family of extreme tree-huggers lived there.

Of course, their lawn was not _exactly _what you would call a lawn. It was largely overgrown, grasses and weeds running wild, except for the strip of dirt under the front windows. It looked like there were a couple of different herbs growing there. Lilly recognized chives, but that was about it. All of the windows were open too, so she was sure the air conditioning was turned off, something she wasn't going to appreciate with sweat already running down her back. No car sat in the driveway, just a trio of bicycles. And if she looked carefully, where the sun hit just right, there was a group of solar panels lining the roof.

Okay, so maybe the environmentally friendly tones were noticeable, but still, not entirely crazy-looking.

Snapping the chin strap for her helmet and tearing the plastic from her head, Lilly made her way carefully up the worn path through the tangled grasses to the front porch, stopping at the first of the wooden steps when she heard the unmistakable sound of someone wiping out on his own skateboard from behind. Looking over her shoulder, Lilly discovered that it was not so much of a wipe out as it was her best friend tripping over his own two feet and his board colliding with the overflowing recycling bins set out at the curb.

"Oliver, you need to work on putting on the breaks," she called.

"Pfffft. Why would I want to put on the breaks? That would take all the fun out of going fast," he responded, picking up his own board and joining her at the bottom step.

"You're obviously not that fast. I beat you here," Lilly muttered, climbing the remainder of the steps to knock on the front door.

"You had a head start," Oliver shot back, flipping some hair out of his line of sight.

She rolled her eyes and refused to dignify his statement with a response. He had been being extra annoying in the little amount of time she had spent with him so far today, and she was already close to locking him in a closet to keep him out of the way for a while.

The front door opened to reveal a smiling Sarah wearing a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt proclaiming that it used to be a newspaper. Lilly wondered if that was even possible, momentarily distracted from her annoyance with the boy next to her.

"Hey guys!" Sarah waved enthusiastically before inviting them inside. "Thanks so much for helping out."

"Yeah... about that..." Oliver hesitated as he glanced around the sparsely decorated living room. "What exactly are we helping you with?"

"Miley didn't tell you?" Sarah asked, leading them through the living room, passed a few yoga mats, to the kitchen.

Oliver shrugged, so Lilly answered for him. "She just said she promised to help, but she couldn't make it today." They set their skateboards and helmets on the wooden floor. Lilly didn't add that Miley also questioned what she would have gotten herself into if she hadn't been 'forced' to make other plans, since she and Sarah didn't see eye to eye on very many things.

"Lilly volunteered us to help instead," Oliver chimed in, giving Sarah a tight smile, a little uncomfortable with the idea of being in her house for the afternoon.

"I never said you had to come with me," Lilly hissed.

"You didn't have to say anything. You gave me that look where your mouth gets all clenchy and your eyes get all dark." He took an apprehensive step away from Lilly and closer to Sarah, but when Sarah raised her eyebrows, he thought better of it, and hopped awkwardly from one foot to the other, not sure which of the girls was actually more dangerous. Sarah had once threatened to hang him by his thumbs, but Lilly had actually made good on threats in the past.

"I don't do that," Lilly started to protest.

"You're doing it now," Sarah informed her quickly, her hand on the doorknob that would allow them out to the backyard.

Lilly let out her breath in a rush before questioning Sarah testily, "what are we doing?"

Sarah hid a smile and pushed the door open, allowing sunlight to flood the kitchen and spots to dance briefly in front of all of their eyes.

Lilly stumbled along behind the other girl on the back porch, and when her vision cleared, she saw several large containers (probably aluminum) full of water sitting on the overgrown grass. There was a rain barrel with its own spigot set up next to the porch, and a trio of them at the end of the house, just below one of the gutters, angled to catch the water as it poured down the roof during a storm. Lilly was wondering just why they were going to need so much water.

"Why do you have a giant stack of shirts?" Oliver wanted to know when he came through the door behind them.

Lilly turned to see just what it was he was talking about, and there was indeed a huge pile of white t-shirts on the table to her left. The table itself appeared to be created by piecing together a bunch of old pieces of wood, even what looked like a captain's wheel from a ship and a pair of oars from a row boat. Next to the shirts on its surface was a large pile of rubber bands. The bands were not their normal shade of pale brown though. Instead, they had multitudes of color streaking through them, as though someone had taken a magic marker to them, or they had been used over and over, which is exactly how Lilly figured out what it was they were going to be doing.

"Do we have to dye all of those?" The question came out as a whine, and Lilly was starting to regret agreeing to give up the bulk of her Saturday so Miley could go play Hannah for the day.

"I always knew you were quicker than people said," Sarah teased. Lilly scowled while the other girl retrieved a shirt from the top of the stack and began spouting off about the content of recycled materials in the shirts,the youth center that couldn't afford uniforms for their intramural sports, and something about not breaking any rubber bands because they liked to reuse them until they practically disintegrated, and then she was going to use them on a sculpture she was working on.

Lilly tuned Sarah out. When the girl got going, it was best to just let her ramble sometimes. Instead of listening, Lilly grabbed a t-shirt and set to twisting it into its own unique shape, wrapping the material in rubber bands. She did the same with three more shirts. Having dyed her share of clothing many times before she outgrew summer camp, she could do this on auto-pilot if necessary. Fold, twist, rubber band. It wasn't too hard, and Lilly knew the pattern for a few different designs by heart. Oliver, on the other hand, seemed to be having some technical difficulties. When Lilly looked over at him, he had a shirt twisted half way around his own arm with some rubber bands knotted in the edges of the fabric.

"What did you do?" she asked him with a giggle before masking her amusement with a stern look of disapproval.

"What? I just did what you did?"

"You look like a cat that got stuck in someone's dirty clothes before they put the load in the washing machine."

"I'll go get the scissors," Sarah sighed with a roll of her eyes before disappearing back into the house.

"Seriously, Oliver. How hard is it to wrap a rubber band around one part of a shirt?" Laughing and rolling her eyes, Lilly did her best to untangle him without cutting off his circulation, and by the time Sarah came back out with a pair of old scissors in hand, Lilly was trying to demonstrate, in slow motion, how to properly secure a t-shirt with rubber bands for dyeing with becoming part of the garment, but it ended with her hitting Oliver over the head with a stack of shirts and Sarah having to stand between them for the rest of the tying.

It took the three of them over an hour to get all of the shirts banded, and by then, Lilly's fingers were sore and Oliver was complaining, loudly, of how hot it was outside, how hungry he was, how hard the project was. Sarah laughed off his complaints, for the most part, but after a fifteen minute speech on how he had a bad back while he was stooped over one of the bins of dye with his fingers dangling a banded shirt into the green mixture, Lilly couldn't take it anymore.

"Oliver!" She snapped the words out as she straightened up, preparing to yell, but at the look on Sarah's face, she changed her mind. "Just... go inside and order us some lunch."

"Really?" Oliver's eyes lit up, delighted at the prospect, and he dropped the shirt he was holding right into the vat of dye below, splashing green in all directions. "Oops."

"Just go!" Lilly commanded. She muttered to herself about donuts and the lack of common sense while Oliver ran inside. When he was gone, she rinsed the shirt in her hands with clean water until the liquid ran through clear, then set the item down where Sarah was unbanding and hanging the clothes across a line.

She glanced at Sarah to see if the advocate for green living and a peaceful planet was going to reprimand her for the outpouring of hostility, but Sarah didn't say anything, just draped another tee shirt with swirls of blue and green on it across the line of rope, dropping a few more rubber bands into the stack at her feet.

"I'm not a mean person, you know," Lilly said finally, when the silence had become almost unbearable. She wasn't used to the other girl going so long with uttering a word. There was no wind to break up the quiet, nor birds whistling in the trees, and the heat of the sun just kept beating down on her, threatening to flatten her to the ground, or maybe fry her like an egg on a car engine.

"Mmm hmm." Sarah's reply was vague as she wrinkled her forehead in concentration, trying to pull a particularly knotted strip of rubber from the sleeve of a t-shirt.

Using a long wooden spoon, Lilly fished the shirt Oliver had dropped out of the pool of green liquid. She casually began rinsing the shirt, waiting for the dye to stop running. "Really, I'm not. Oliver's just..." She couldn't think of the word to say.

"An idiot?" Sarah supplied with a barely suppressed smile. The rubber band she was wrestling with detached with a sharp snap, and she dropped it onto her stack. "Well, maybe not an idiot, but he has his idiotic moments," she added.

Lilly was unsure whether to stick up for her best friend or agree with the girl next to her. She was definitely more inclined to agree, especially today when all he was doing was complaining and making mistakes.

"I know he drives you crazy. But you shouldn't be so hard on him. He's a really good friend."

The water ran over her hands, her eyes staring at the shirt and not at Sarah. The green was going to stain her skin, and her nails, but she didn't care.

"Do you know why I love tie dyeing?"

The sudden switch of topics confused Lilly, so she shook her head and turned off the spigot to the rain barrel, turning to Sarah, and handing over the shirt.

"Because when you take this plain old white shirt that no one thinks is very special, one that looks like a million other shirts, and you twist it and turn it, and then you practically drown it in color, it just looks like a soggy lump. It's not something anyone's going to want. It goes from being the same as everything else, to your basic pile of yuck. But then, you help it out a little bit. Run water over it to tone down the color, take away all the twists and turns and smooth it all out. And the designs can be amazing. Sometimes you don't even know how awesome something's going to be in the end, and you can surprise yourself, end up with something really unique." Sarah's eyes sparkled with some sort of manic delight, and she stared at Lilly meaningfully, all the while unsnapping rubber bands.

"Are you trying to tell me Oliver's like a white shirt that I'm going to dye?" Lilly asked her blankly.

Sarah sighed. "You can think whatever you want," she said. "I just think you shouldn't be so hard on him."

"Well," Lilly shot back, "maybe he needs a few more twists and turns before he's done."

Oliver came stumbling through the back door, phone in hand as he called out to Sarah about some vegan Chinese place that she had the number for on her fridge, and promptly tripped over, falling right into the container of blue dye.

"Should we hang him up to dry?" Sarah quipped, shaking the shirt that had huge green circles all over it out in front of her before draping it on the line.

Lilly laughed and moved to help him up from the now sodden ground. "Blue is definitely a good color on you, Oken," she teased.

"Oh, I'm glad you like it," Oliver told her before splashing her with what was left in the bucket, coating one side of her body in the blue tinted water. Lilly tensed, seeing lines of blue begin to spread across her skin and clothing. She did not want to look like a Smurf on Monday.

"Maybe you still need some twists and turns too."

The words were whispered by Sarah into Lilly's ear before she could start yelling, and Lilly acknowledged her with a quick nod, resolving to go a little easier on the boy sprawled in the bucket of dye. At least until she took the opportunity to tone down his blue color with a dousing of clean water from a rain barrel.

**A/N: I actually had the first half of this written for quite a while, and never got around to finishing it. And then, just before I started working on S, I thought, why not go ahead and get this out of the way? It was originally going to be more of a story about Sarah and Lilly becoming friends, but it turned into something completely different. **


	21. U is for unconventional use of umbrellas

U is for unconventional uses for umbrellas.

_As a weapon during games of Batman where you get stuck being The Penguin._

"Why do I have to be the bad guy?" A tiny Lilly whined to the boys around her. They all got to take turns being Batman whenever they played. Except for her. She was stuck being the guy who quacked like a duck and thought he could hypnotize people. What kind of crap was that? Lilly may have been six, but she was pretty sure this was right up there on the scale of 'not fair' that usually followed her around when she played with the boys. "Why can't I be Batman?" She pouted now, knowing that was usually the one trick she had as the sole girl who would climb over fences and get down in the mud with the boys on her block.

"Cause I'm Batman first. Duh." It was the floppy brown haired boy from next door. And he grinned widely, turning back to the other three boys to plan out his greatest world saving fete yet.

She couldn't be mad at him. As her best friend, certain exceptions were allowed for Oliver. Besides, Batman was his favorite. Lilly glared as the other three boys were designated Commissioner Gordon, Robin, and Superman. "Superman?" She echoed.

"Yeah. Didn't you see the comic this week? He totally came and saved the day," one of the other boys informed her. "He's way cooler than Batman."

"He is not!" The floppy haired boy took offense to that big time.

Lilly rolled her eyes, and settled her weight on the end of the umbrella that she clutched in one hand. Boys and their superheroes. Once Oliver started defending Batman, they could be there all day. They might not even do anything. She just wanted to go swimming. But nobody's parents would take them to the beach. So she was stuck as The Penguin. Again. And Oliver and Chad were yelling. Again.

"He is too!" The other boy shot back, furiously chomping down on the bubble gum in his mouth. "Batman can't even fly!"

"Are we gonna play or not?" Lilly cut in while the other boys looked on.

"In a minute."

A few more minutes of insults followed.

"You only think Batman's cool because he's rich." "Well, you only like Superman because he's an alien!" "Is not!" "Is too!"

But then, the boy chomping on his gum did the unthinkable. "Batman's so dumb," he drawled, "he might as well be a girl."

Lilly's eyes narrowed into slits and she stood up as straight as her tiny frame allowed. "Girls. Aren't. Dumb."

Even the other two boys who had only been watching the exchange, waiting for it to pass until it was time to play, took a few steps back from the floppy haired Batman fan, the Chomper, and the girl with umbrella. The Chomper simply laughed. But Lilly's umbrella belonged to her father and it had a very sharp point on the end. She made sure to put it to good use.

Needless to say, Chad wasn't much up for playing Batman with Lilly any time in the near future. Which was just fine with her.

* * *

_As a decoration when your great aunt sends you a pretty one from her trip to China. Only later are you corrected and told it's actually a parasol._

It was just too pretty to use was the problem. It was all purple with little yellow and white flowers on it and lacy edges and almost see through material. The fabric was so soft in fact, that when Lilly opened the package addressed to her that summer after her first year of junior high, she thought the umbrella would simply disintegrate between her fingers. It was far too delicate to be used in a summer thunder storm.

She pushed the piece along the handle until all of the ribbing splayed open, and she twirled it around in the light of her bedroom, just watching the colors dance along the ceiling. It really was too pretty. And as a girl who had played with the boys, who wasn't afraid to get a little muddy, or for that matter, a little bloody, she hadn't owned too many things that qualified as very pretty. Not ones she wanted to keep anyway. Or, at the very least, not things that didn't qualify as foot wear, and not things that didn't end up broken.

So she propped it up on a shelf, keeping it open and clearly visible in the light of the sun that streamed through her window in the middle of the day so that anyone who came in would be able to admire it. She was always ready to offer up an explanation that her great aunt had sent it to her specially from China, that it must have cost a fortune, and that it was one of her favorite things.

And she was very careful to only use the cheap black umbrella that she had bought from a stand in front of the grocery store every time it rained. But one day, on her way to the bus stop for the summer school program that she had been tricked into attending, her black umbrella shuddered in the wind and the ribbing splintered away from the middle of the shaft, letting the strands of the fabric shred as the storm clouds rolled in. The object was yanked from her hands in a particularly violent burst of wind, and Lilly watched the cheap umbrella blow away in shock.

The rain may have only been a slight drizzle now, but with the clouds darkening ominously and her hair being whipped around in the gale, Lilly knew she needed more protection, and more style, than an ugly yellow rain coat was going to offer. There really was only one thing left to do, even if it was the very last thing she wanted to do.

Against her better judgment, Lilly raced home to grab the purple umbrella from her room, making it back just before the largest drops of water began to splatter. She stood in the doorway, wasting a few precious moments with her gaze flicking back and forth from the window that was currently being pounded by water, and the pale spot of purple resting comfortably on the top of her shelf. She gave a small sigh, crossed the room, and reached up awkwardly to pull the umbrella down from the shelf.

By that time, she was in danger of missing her bus, so she quit thinking about her choice and ran down the stair, escaping from the house as quickly as possible, the handle of the umbrella clutched firmly in one hand. During her sprint to the bus stop, the rain picked up, and she could hear the steady thrum on the fabric above her head, and by the time she reached her destination, there was a steady stream of water pouring from the center of the fabric to go with that thrum. It was running down her shoulder, effectively drenching one side of her body.

And Joanie Palumbo cackled at the sight of Lilly switching the object to her other hand, trying to even out the waterfall coating her t-shirt.

"Wow, Truscott, you're even dumber than the Popular Twins of the Turnip Brain. Don't you know a parasol isn't going to keep out the rain. Those things are so flimsy, they might as well be made of tissue paper. Useless crap."

Lilly didn't respond. But she spent the first hour of her summer program trying to dry herself off. She didn't want to admit how cool she thought the parasol was, how pretty she found it, how much she liked it. Not when Joanie Palumbo, and a fair amount of the guys at school, referred to it as useless crap. Instead, she decided that pretty and functional didn't go together, and the umbrella, no, make that parasol, went back on the shelf where it could be as pretty as it pleased without ruining her morning.

* * *

_As a tool to hide your face when dodging the paparazzi with Hannah Montana._

"Ugh. Who are all of these people and why are they all carrying cameras?" Lilly, in her newly created alter ego Lola's get-up, complained as a security guard attempted to escort Lilly and Miley from the back of the latest concert venue.

"Paparazzi. Where do you think all of those pictures of Hannah in the gossip magazines that you like so much come from?" Miley's voice was flat. It had been a long, hard show, and she just wanted to go home and crash. But the presence of cameras and bodies between the three of them, and the car that housed the driver was almost too much.

Lilly linked one of her arms through Miley's, the other was laden with a tote bag full of every possible supply her father thought she might need on her night out with the young popstar. "Come on," she groaned, trying to stay as close to the security guard as possible, dragging Miley along with her.

Someone stepped on her foot. Another elbowed her in the side. And yet another stuck a camera into her line of vision and snapped a pic of Miley as she sneezed. "Great," she muttered so only Lilly could hear her, "now the headlines tomorrow will say something about Hannah having a mutant strain of the flu... or some sort of condition that causes her to have seizures mid photograph."

Lilly could practically hear the eye roll that accompanied the statement, even though she couldn't see her face. Miley was, like Lilly and most of the other teenagers she knew, adept at a good eye roll. She stumbled in her super high heeled boots, almost taking out one of the photographers as she pitched forward, and Miley with her. A bottle of water, some spare change, and a tube of lip gloss clattered to the pavement. Lilly righted herself, but didn't even make an attempt to dive for the items. She would get trampled by the photographers. She wasn't about to risk it. Even if that was her favorite lip gloss rolling away.

Poking out of the top of the bag, in fact, digging into her arm, was an item her dad had shoved in there at the last minute, telling her that there was always a chance of rain.

"Hang on," Lilly called to Miley and the security guard, who was almost being swallowed up by the eager vultures with their flashbulbs going off. Spots danced in front of her eyes as she pulled the long umbrella from her bag, unwrapped the button closure, and hit the switch at the base of the handle that had it springing to life. Bright pink fabric ignited in front of them, the ribs of the umbrella pushing out into the sea of cameras, a couple of them joining Lilly's lip gloss on the ground.

She giggled, pulling Miley in behind the umbrella with her, the two girls ducking their heads as they used the umbrella to push through the crowd.

The headline the next day read, "Hannah Pink With Happiness Out With New Friend." The only good shot the magazine had involved half of Miley's face on the side of the pink. Lilly's was perfectly hidden. She never made it into the magazines.

* * *

_As a chew toy to lure the dog away from your favorite pair of boots._

She was running late. Very late. So late that when she finally got to the restaurant, her date might have thought she stood him up. But it wasn't her fault.

The photo shoot for Hannah Montana's next album had taken longer than she anticipated. And then there was traffic on the highway. And then the rain. And then she had to shower off all of her Lola makeup and wig tape. And she had called to tell him that she was running late, but she got his voice mail, so she wasn't entirely sure that he believed her. And then it took forever to find clean clothes that weren't simply for a day at the beach. And now... now that she had her perfect outfit for a first date on, she couldn't find her perfect pair of boots to go with it.

Her cell phone pressed to one ear as she tried calling again, Lilly crawled around on the floor of her room to check under her bed. She knew the boots shouldn't be under there. She never kept shoes under her bed. But she looked anyway. All she found was one of those flat plastic storage containers with winter sweaters in it and a baseball bat. Her dad had given her the baseball bat when he moved out. It made her giggle every time she thought about it.

And she got his voicemail. Again.

Sighing, Lilly perused the shoes in her closet for the third time, trying not to notice the fact that her hair was a little tangled from having to stick her head part way under the bed. She mentally inventoried her shoes. Every pair was there except for the one pair of flip-flops on the back porch, her gym sneakers which were in her locker at school, and the pair of heels she had left at Miley's house, and the boots in question. Where were her boots? Her perfect boots.

Foot steps moving rapidly outside her door let her know that her little brother was running for the stair case, something her mother was always yelling about.

"Stop!" She shouted, half heartedly, then turned into the hallway, thinking the fleet footed younger sibling might have some insight into her disappearing shoes.

And she was right. Because he stood at the top of the stairs and tossed one of her boots down them. The boot was followed by a rapidly scampering dog.

"Dog's a menace," Mark muttered, holding one of his own sneaker's at arm's length. It was covered in a thick layer of dog drool.

"Why did you give him my shoes?" Lilly yelped.

"To get mine away from him," Mark retorted before dodging her swipe in his direction and locking himself in his room.

"Stupid dog. Stupid brother. Stupid Mom." Lilly spoke to herself as she hopped down the steps, not only looking for the dog, but also keeping an eye out for the missing half of her pair of shoes. Her mother had started dating a dentist a few weeks ago, and that dentist had a dog. He was out of town for a conference for the entire weekend. So far, the dog had chewed through three pillows, a table leg, and a bag of frozen peas.

Lilly's mother thought he was an adorable puppy that needed to be trained. Lilly agreed with her brother's assessment. The dog was a menace.

And it was currently under the dining room table guarding both of her boots. Not chewing on them. Not drooling on them. Just happily laying there with one paw on each boot. His tail was wagging when Lilly knelt down to watch him. She cocked her head to one side. The dog cocked his head to one side. Slowly, ever so slowly, she reached forward to grab one shoe, but the dog clamped down and hurriedly dragged it into the living room.

Not stopping to think, Lilly jammed the one abandoned boot onto her foot and hobbled after the dog. Again, he wasn't biting down, just holding the shoe there and watching her, his tail wagging back and forth the whole time.

"You just want to play, huh?" Lilly asked him softly. "Okay. Let's see what we have for you to play with that isn't a thirty dollar shoe."

He didn't want the ball she offered. Not the squeaky hamburger either. Or the knotted rope. Of course, he didn't want any of the objects that were actually toys for dogs. That would be too easy. So, Lilly grabbed the only thing in the living room that her mother wouldn't care about breaking. The umbrella sitting on the coffee table.

She waved it back and forth a few times, watching the dog's eyes follow the tiny purse sized umbrella. She lifted it a little higher, and he sat up. She threw it across the room, watched him skid along after it, and grabbed her shoe. She did have to wipe it down in the kitchen, and vowed that she would polish them later if she had to, but she was already late.

Her date didn't appreciate the story about the dog and the umbrella when she finally showed up. Needless to say, they didn't end up having a second date anyway.

* * *

_As a shield from the storm. Any storm. Didn't matter which._

"Dude, how long's he been standing out there?"

It was Todd who asked the question. And at first, no one answered. The group of students were gathered at the end of the hall, some of them with faces touching the glass, trying to get a glimpse of the man outside. And it was Lilly who answered after a swift check of the time on her watch.

"Nineteen minutes, thirty seconds, give or take." She could feel Miley and Oliver watching her now instead of the teacher outside, but she didn't look at them. She felt bad for the guy standing out there in the pouring rain. He didn't deserve what he got. It wasn't fair. But with only ten minutes left on their lunch break, most students were beginning to filter back into the cafeteria.

"Wish there was something we could do for him," Oliver mumbled, but he took a step back from the window.

Lilly nodded slightly, her eyes unfocused, and she suddenly spun on her heel to return to their American Government classroom. While there, she picked up an umbrella from the back window sill, one decorated in Garfield comic strips, and headed outside into the downpour.

"Lils, what are you-"

But Lilly didn't hear the rest of the question. She was already outside, the water thrumming around her, the door shutting behind her. She stepped lightly and carefully over the deeper puddles, careful not to slip or slide on the wet concrete, and all too soon, she was right next to the teacher she had known since she was eleven years old.

"This weather kind of sucks, huh, Mr. C?" she tried conversationally.

He kept staring straight ahead, into the wall of water ahead of them. It was coming down in sheets now, and Lilly was getting worried.

"You think I'll have to float home in a boat?" she joked, but he didn't even crack a smile. "I see that this crazy feline stole another pan of lasagna," she needled, holding the umbrella high above her head, trying to reach up enough to catch him under the span of the cover.

His eyes flitted over to her, and his mouth curved up in half a smile.

"I thought you might want your umbrella," Lilly told him seeing that his attention had shifted, if only slightly. "You know, cause you want to stay dry, right?"

Mr. Corelli cracked a smile, took the umbrella from Lilly's outstretched hand and held it over both of their heads. "Yep. Dryness is an important trait. Wouldn't want to come back in and have everyone think I've been sweating or something."

"I've got some coconut body spray in my locker if you're worried about smelling like a wet cat or something."

"Why would I smell like a cat? You think I smell like a cat?"

"I didn't say you smell like a wet cat. I said you could be worried about smelling like a wet cat. That's all." She smiled, then tried to say something upbeat, but failed. "I'm really going to miss you Mr. C." He went silent again. "I just wanted you to know that you're one of my favorite teachers... ever. And I think you're going to be great... at whatever you decide to do next."

"I didn't decide to quit Lilly, I was fired," he said shortly.

"But look at it this way, you've been teaching her for three years now, and you were at the middle school for ten years before that, maybe now is time for a change. When one door closes, another one opens. There's always sunlight through the clouds."

"How many cliches are you going to throw at me here, Truscott?"

"As many as it takes." She paused, then added, "You know, there's always a rainbow after a storm."

"Well... I always did want to be in a band," he mused with a smile. "Or become a chef. Then, I could make all the lasagna I wanted."

* * *

**A/N: I thought about doing another section that would be more romantic, but I like these better. Just little snippets into the life of Lilly. Sorry there's not a whole lot of Oliver in this one, but maybe there will be in V. Cause I can think of lots of words that start with V that could be appropriate.**


	22. V is for vanilla scented Volvos

V is for vanilla scented Volvos.

Tapping her boot impatiently, Lilly surveyed the rows and rows and rows of cars in front of her. She was really not in the mood for sales pitches and asking questions she didn't know the answers to. Sneaking a quick glance at Oliver while one of the smarmy guys in a bright green tie laughed loudly and clapped him on the back, she tried to keep the expression on her face neutral. Oliver knew only a little bit more about cars than she did. Which was almost nothing. This probably wasn't going to go anywhere near well.

Besides, she had plans. It was the day before Valentine's Day. Her first Valentine's Day with Oliver as a couple. And she hadn't wanted to make a big deal out of it. At first. But everyone at school, well, all the girls, were so excited about roses and chocolate and jewelry. Lilly knew Oliver wasn't going to buy her roses. He knew she preferred more exotic flowers. As for chocolate, that was not exactly a special treat, though she'd take chocolate whenever she could get it. Jewelry was out of the question. They were saving for a car. And she wasn't going to let Oliver spend any of their car money on a piece of jewelry. Because of all this, she had, in a moment of weakness, suggested that they forgo gifts and look at cars. But she hadn't meant today. Because she had plans.

She was supposed to be camped out in Miley's room doing mud masks and manicures and giving her best female friend her undivided attention since Miley didn't have anyone to spend the candy coated holiday with tomorrow. She had promised Miley that tonight would be a girls night. Instead, the sun was getting ready to set, she was holding her jacket close to her body to protect herself from the dropping temperatures, and she was standing in the lot of a place called Sal's where skeevy sales men kept giving her strange looks without Oliver noticing.

"Yep," the guy in the bright green tie said, gesturing to a hunk of rust in front of them, "she's got some body issues, but her engine is perfect. A real steal at three thou."

Body issues? Was it bulimic? Spitting up the fluids you put in it to make it run? Lilly suppressed a snort while they were left alone to examine the car.

"I take it that's a no?" Oliver asked with half a smile after the sales man was out of earshot.

"Oliver, that thing's going to fall apart as soon as you get it off the lot." She paused, toying with a strand of her hair while she thought. "We have four and a half thousand saved up. I think we can afford to go for something slightly better than this." She gestured at the vehicle in front of them with thinly veiled disgust. "Besides, it's getting late. We can do this another time."

"In other words, this car's ugly, and you're late to meet Miley." He had a full smile on his face now, his eyes warm and amused.

"You know me so well," Lilly teased, leaning up to peck him on the cheek before they left.

Her night at Miley's was, as Lilly could have predicted earlier, relatively uneventful. Jackson made a few jokes about them looking like swamp monsters with their mud masks on. Miley made a crack about his pathetic attempts to woo a pretty girl that crashed and burned. And the night went on as usual with chick flicks and nail polish and junk food.

The next morning though, that was a little more eventful.

Oliver met the girls in the school parking lot, leaning up against a box-like silver vehicle with a proud smile on his face. He swept his hands out to his sides like the host of a game show.

"Well, ladies, what do you think?"

"Of what? That ugly shirt?" Miley quipped, afraid to ask about the car with Lilly standing right next to her.

"Oh, Miles, you're such a kidder," Oliver shot back with an eye roll. "The car! What do you think of the car?"

Lilly said nothing, just shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. He wouldn't. He couldn't. But, he must have. Because why else would he be looking so proud of himself? "It's a car," she finally said with a shrug.

"It's a Volvo, actually," he corrected, still with that superior smile on his face. "You said you liked the one in that movie with the vampire guy, right? I thought this would be perfect."

"Perfect for what?" Lilly asked carefully. Miley took a small step closer to Lilly in case she had to hold her back.

"For our car! And it was a steal too. It was only two thousand!" Oliver rushed around excitedly, trying to show off the four doors, the good paint job, the newly tinted windows.

"It was only two thousand because it's something out of the eighties," Lilly snapped, cutting off his happy explanations.

"It's a ninety-five," he protested, his smile dropping. "I thought- You said-"

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Miley said brightly, linking one arm through Lilly's when she started to move forward.

"Yeah," Oliver agreed. "Happy V Day! I thought, this would be a good present. You know, we saved up all that money, and now we have some extra that we can do something really cool, like..."

"Get a new car?" Lilly glared at him. "We were supposed to do this together! Oliver, this car is a gray box on wheels that probably doesn't have power windows or locks or even a CD player. It's almost as old as we are! It's probably not going to last long at all! How could you be so, so... ugh!" She shook Miley off and stormed through the parking lot.

"So, this was a bad idea?" Oliver questioned Miley.

"Really bad," She affirmed, taking off after Lilly.

It took until the end of the day for Lilly to calm down. She slammed her locker a few times, glared at Oliver a few more, huffed in annoyance at Valentine's Day messages that other girls received, and did all the usual over dramatic Lilly things that went along with her anger. They didn't call her a drama queen for nothing. Once the last class of the day was over though, she didn't want to punch Oliver every time she saw him. And as she shuffled out to the parking lot, she had to admit that him actually listening to her talk about the kind of car she might like, and then trying to find it for her, was sweet, if a little misguided.

When she reached the car, Oliver was sitting in the driver's seat, head back, eyes closed. Knocking on the window, she joked, "taking a nap?"

He hurried to roll down the window, and like Lilly had predicted, it was with the use of a hand crank. "I was just thinking."

"First time for everything, I guess."

"Lils, I-"

"Forget it. The car's fine. Can you give me a ride home?" She gave him half a smile to let him know she wasn't too angry. But that only lasted until they got to the end of the parking lot. She sniffed the air cautiously, then wrinkled her nose. There was something familiar, something sickly sweet in the air. "What is that smell?"

"The air freshener?" Oliver said it like a question, and gestured with one hand to the small can sitting in what would have been the ash tray, except that he and Lilly didn't smoke, so he knew it wouldn't get any use.

Eying the little can that looked like it should have housed cat food curiously, Lilly reached in and pulled it out with the tips of her fingers. It was one of those concentrated air fresheners that sold for a few dollars a can. They had little sponge-like things inside that were supposed to allow the scent to filter out slowly. She had seen them before, even used them, but this happened to be a scent she hated. Almost as much as Miley hated raspberries.

"Vanilla pudding?" She asked, her throat tightening on the words.

"Yeah? So? Is there something wrong with it? I thought you liked vanilla."

"Vanilla's fine," she snapped out, thrusting it back into the ash tray, and rolling her window down as far as it would go. She didn't speak to him again until they pulled into his driveway, right next to her own house. "I'll see you tomorrow," she called, speed walking to her own front door.

"What? But I thought-"

Lilly didn't wait to hear what he thought though. Instead, she left him with his mouth hanging open in the driveway, getting into the house and slamming the door behind her as fast as possible.

She knew she was being ridiculous. But... he had bought the car without even checking with her first. And, okay, she could get over that. Because he had made a good point. Now, they would have money for other things. And he was trying to surprise her with something he thought she wanted. But, the air freshener...

It wasn't that Lilly didn't like vanilla. She liked it perfectly fine as a flavor. Vanilla ice cream, vanilla lattes, vanilla frosting, she liked all of those. She even liked vanilla pudding. And she had a few different body sprays that had hints of vanilla in them. Vanilla was okay, as far as vanilla could go. The problem was that "vanilla pudding" was, in fact, the kind of air freshener that Oliver's last girlfriend liked to keep in her car. And it was so strong that Lilly frequently found herself gagging if she had to spend too long in Joanie Palumbo's tiny car.

Joanie Palumbo.

This was supposed to be her very first Valentine's Day with Oliver as a real couple, and Joanie still had to find a way to ruin it. It wasn't bad enough that she had to force herself into being friends with the girl who had bullied her nonstop for six years. It wasn't bad enough that she had actually become really good friends with said girl once she got to know her, then started to feel guilty about hating her half the time. Now, she had to creep into her head on Valentine's Day too. It wasn't fair.

She flopped down on the living room couch and crammed a pillow over her face, screaming into the fabric. Not fair. She wasn't supposed to be thinking about Joanie.

Oliver probably didn't even realize. He probably just had one of those little cans left. From when he was still with Joanie. Almost a year ago.

_Air fresheners don't last that long, Lilly._

_They do if they're sealed._

_Do they?_

_What, like he bought it because he forgot he was dating me?_

_Or maybe because he'd rather be dating her?_

Great. Now her brain was arguing with her, and trying to depress her. She was pretty sure having a mental argument with yourself was not a good sign.

"I am not insane," she said aloud as she pulled the pillow from her face.

"No, you're not," Oliver's voice agreed with her. "Though you are a tad dramatic."

Lilly shot up off the couch with an "eep!" and turned around. Apparently, in her haste to escape the vanilla pudding scented air of their new car, she had completely forgotten to lock the front door of her house behind her. Of course. Because just what she needed right now was to have Oliver standing in her living room, telling her she was acting dramatic, and have him witness that she just attempted to convince herself that she wasn't insane. Though she was really beginning to doubt her own sanity. Maybe she did belong in a room with padded walls.

"I'm sorry," Oliver offered, flipping some of his hair out of his eyes.

"What?" Lilly asked him blankly. And here she had been expecting him to ask her what was going on.

Taking a few steps forward, Oliver explained slowly and carefully, "I wasn't thinking. My mom gave me an air freshener that she was going to use in her car when I told her I thought the Volvo smelled like a cat had been living in it. I didn't even pay attention to what kind it was."

"Vanilla pudding." Hanging her head as she whispered the words, Lilly shuffled her feet. "I guess I shouldn't have just run off like that. It's not a big deal. It's just an air freshener." She shrugged now, not meeting his eyes, not wanting to tell him that Joanie was still a little intimidating, even though they were friends, and even though she knew, well, most of her knew, that Oliver and Joanie were never going to be getting back together.

"Yeah... but it's Joanie's smell of choice." He paused. "Not mine."

He took another few steps forward, and Lilly turned her gaze on the window, her cheeks pinking. "Well... what kind do you want?"

"I'm thinking green apples," he whispered softly, now right in front of her. "Those are just right."

"Oh, no," Lilly countered with a smile. "If the car smells like apples, we'll never get anywhere. You like that smell a little _too much._"

And Oliver made her point for her by pulling her into a hug and burying his face in her apple scented hair.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he deadpanned.

"Oh, really?" Lilly asked with a slight toss of her hair.

Oliver inhaled deeply and admitted, "okay, maybe apple isn't a good idea. We'd never make it out of the driveway." But then he pulled back and said seriously, "I threw away the vanilla though. I won't use it again. Ever. Vanilla's nothing to me."

Her lips curving into a wider smile, Lilly said, "good. Then... I'm thinking strawberry. Or maybe coconut. Apple is only for special occasions."

"How special?" Oliver's eyes widened in a poor imitation of innocence.

"We'll talk about it later," Lilly told him, suddenly all business. "Because right now, you're going to tell me all about this supposedly amazing car you picked out for us."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to lcat225 for part of the idea for this story. They suggested Volvo, and I had already planned on using vanilla... though with another V. Haha. I liked their idea about the car better than my own. Almost two weeks after Valentine's Day is a bit late, I know. Sorry about that. I've been busy. I currently have nothing settled on for any of the rest of the letters of the alphabet though, so I'll make it up to you by taking suggestions. W is next for those of you who are alphabetically challenged :) **


	23. W is for whiskey sour Wednesdays

W is for whiskey sour Wednesdays.

The first time they met for drinks was an accident.

She had never been much of a drinker, and neither had the other young woman. They had both seen a lot of their friends crash and burn at parties that were too loud or too crazy for their liking. But, just after her twenty-third birthday, just after she and her boyfriend of practically eternity had decided to take a break, just after she had been turned down for another teaching position, just after she found out that her best friend was engaged to someone who was too old for her, well, just after all of that, she felt like a drink sounded pretty nice.

So she pulled up to a little hole in the wall bar on a Wednesday night. The kind that still had a jukebox in the corner playing the perfect combination of eighties rock and cheesy country songs. The kind that had a group of regulars clustered at one end of the sticky bar top. The kind where people eyed her curiously in her mid thigh black skirt and her kitten heels and her white button down blouse that was required for her job as an administrative assistant at a private school for the rich kids she had always hated when she was a student. Her blond hair was perfectly straightened, her makeup minimalist, but the bags under her eyes and the weary expression on her face must have convinced the regulars that she was alright, because one of the men at the end of the bar, one with an eye patch and a red flannel shirt raised his glass in her direction and nodded at the bartender.

She smiled, slid onto a stool, and ordered the only thing she had ever really tried at social gatherings (well, at gatherings that didn't involve sorority girls seeing how much they could drink before they dropped, anyway), a whiskey sour. It was a cute little drink with enough bite to give her a slight buzz. The bourbon, the lemon juice, the crushed ice, and the little garnish with the orange slice. But it was still the kind of drink that you could order and get some respect. It wasn't like she was ordering a daiquiri. She was running her finger around the rim of the glass, preparing to lick the sugar from her finger, when a woman that she hadn't seen for almost five years plopped down on the bar stool next to her, the exact same drink clutched in her thin fingers.

They always had been more alike than either of them cared to admit.

"What are we drinking to, Truscott?" she asked, her voice a bit more gravelly than Lilly remembered.

"Regrets?" Lilly asked her softly, downing the sugar and taking a quick sip from her glass. It burned just a bit on the way down, but not enough to make a cough bubble to the surface.

"Ah, that's the popular choice in a place like this, isn't it?"

"Yes, Palumbo, yes it is."

They clinked glasses and prepared to commiserate.

And they spent that first time reminiscing about high school, about not being where they thought they would be when they left it five years ago, but staying away from the familiar topics that would have gotten them into trouble years earlier. And Lilly apologized for not staying in touch. And Joanie waved her off with a careless hand. And they exchanged their new cell phone numbers, though neither of them called.

There was no real plan for the second time, but two weeks later they were on the same bar stools with the same drinks in front of them. Yeah, that second time was more like fate. There were no secrets between them, no boys to fight over.

Lilly listened as her drinking companion complained about having to break up with her current boyfriend. He ate meat, wasn't a serious enough athlete, preferring to just mellow out and sit on the waves for hours before catching the perfect wave, and he tried to get her to slow down on her training regimen. Then she listened while Lilly complained about working in an office calling parents to let them know their kids were skipping class instead of getting to actually teach them anything.

"You know, I never would have pegged you for a teacher. I always thought you'd end up being a gossip journalist or something. You always knew everything about all the celebrities." There was a pause while she downed half of her drink. "I guess that's cause your best friend was Hannah Montana though, huh?"

Neither of them brought up Miley or her impending wedding though. And they circled around making plans to get together for lunch or to see a hockey game or to do something other than sit on a couple of barstools, but it didn't happen. Neither of them wanted to rush right back into a friendship that had been so forced once upon a time.

Three months went by, and Wednesday nights became the standard meeting time for them to go over their life stories.

They got hit on by the guy with the eye patch once, but he turned out to be a friendly enough man named Dave who was old enough to be their father, and who was always first to make sure they were okay to drive. Once in a while he sat with them and told them stories about when he used to be a fisherman. Lilly found those stories hilarious, always picturing him with a parrot on one shoulder and a peg leg scraping the deck while a storm raged around him and he shouted orders at his crew. He would have made the perfect pirate.

It was on month four, meeting ten, when Lilly finally had good news to share. She had finally found herself a teaching job. A freshman English class, back at Sea View High School.

"Ugh." There was a choking sound, and a glass slammed back down on the bar top. "You're voluntarily going back there?"

Lilly sighed. "I've applied everywhere else. Apparently, a lot of people want to be teachers. Sea View needs one. Nobody else has hired me yet."

"Is there a contract?"

"Three years."

"So, it looks like we'll still be getting drinks every week."

"Looks like."

They toasted to the change in Lilly's fortune, and they met up again the next week with higher expectations.

And the higher expectations were deserved. Because despite having tried to dump her lackluster surfing boyfriend almost four months earlier, the carnivore had proposed to Lilly's now closest friend outside of work, and she was brandishing a silver ring on her finger with a tiny blue stone on it.

"He knows I'm not a fan of diamonds," Joanie gushed with misted eyes, and Lilly was appropriately happy for her, listening to the story of the proposal, asking enough questions that she could live vicariously through her friend's experience. The only time someone had proposed to her, she had turned them down, citing "not ready" as her reason. They had been on an extended break ever since.

Their Wednesdays over the next year turned into wedding planning instead of complaint sessions. Whole hours were wasted debating the finer points of place settings and cake flavors. And Lilly found herself the maid of honor twice in one year, even though she rarely spoke with the other woman who had been her oldest and dearest friend anymore.

And during the honeymoon, Lilly spent her Wednesdays sipping her same drink on the same stool while she graded vocabulary tests and horribly written papers. She planned lessons and wondered if whiskey sours were going to become a thing of the past.

But no. The first Wednesday after Joanie's honeymoon was over, she was back on her barstool, waving a greeting, as Lilly came through the doors into the poorly lit bar.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to show, Truscott."

It was meeting number fifty. Not that either of them were counting.

By meeting number sixty, Lilly was the only one drinking whiskey sours, and Joanie was leafing through lists of baby names. And on meeting seventy-five, there was a surprise visitor.

"I can't believe you're pregnant! With a real baby!"

"Did you expect it to be an alien baby?" Joanie teased.

Aliens. Joanie would bring up aliens with him. That had been one of the "reasons" they broke up so many years ago.

The guy, his hair a little long and a little shaggy, the color of dark chocolate, was sitting on Lilly's stool when she came into the bar. He was wearing a pair of loose fitting jeans, a black tee shirt, and an old pair of shoes that were marked up with various colors of permanent marker. He'd probably had those since high school. In fact, Lilly had probably written on them while they were lounging on the beach or while he had a foot propped in her lap studying for a test. She swallowed nervously, the strap of her purse falling from her shoulder down to her elbow.

He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in a studio somewhere helping that new twelve-year-old who was named after some sort of soft drink record her first album. He was supposed to be settling into his brand new job since the band broke up. He was supposed to be going to all the cool industry parties without her. He was supposed to be far away, where she wasn't. He wasn't supposed to be _here_, invading her weekly tradition with the girl he had forced her to be friends with at fifteen. And he definitely wasn't supposed to be drinking her drink, laughing it up at the bar like he was a regular.

She stood stock still in the doorway for a whole of thirty seconds, imagining she could hear the hand of the clock ticking each of those seconds by. And just as she resolved to turn around, go back to her car, and send Joanie an apology text message with an excuse, Joanie awkwardly slipped off her stool and announced, loud enough for the whole bar to hear her, that she was going to the bathroom. And he turned around and saw her standing in the doorway.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the elusive Miss Truscott." He gave her half a smile, the one that used to be her smile, and Joanie waved before padding off to the restrooms.

She wished she had known he was going to be here. She would have tried to wear something a little prettier, something more trendy, something that made her look younger even. She was in a gray pencil skirt and a long sleeved purple sweater. She probably looked like her grandmother or something. Not the best impression you wanted to make when you hadn't seen someone in so long.

"Hi," Lilly mumbled, shuffling up and sitting down on the stool on the other side of Joanie's empty one. "How've you been?" The bartender brought her the usual drink before she even set her bag down, and she ignored the raised eyebrow given to her by Oliver Oken. She couldn't remember having more than a glass of wine around him when they were dating. And she didn't even like wine.

"Eh, I'm alright. Finished recording with Cola last week, came home to visit my parents... You know, my brother's graduating next month? How crazy is that?"

Oliver shook his head in awe, and Lilly watched a few strands of hair fall across his eyes. It was like nothing had changed over the last year and a half. Except, of course, that they weren't together. His toothbrush wasn't in her bathroom. She didn't keep clothes in his closet. And neither was trying to leave early in the morning without waking the other.

"Yeah, I know. So is mine. You know, I subbed for your brother's class a couple of times." She spoke carefully and quietly, not something she was used to doing around him, and she wondered how long it was going to take for her old drinking buddy to come back from the bathroom and put up some semblance of a wall between them. The space between them felt too wide.

"Oh, yeah, he might have mentioned that." His voice was nonchalant, but he looked away and gestured for another drink from the bartender.

Lilly watched as he popped the maraschino cherry that had been on the side of his glass into his mouth. His cheeks were already a little red, but she wasn't sure if it was the awkwardness of the situation that was working on his system, or if the alcohol was winding its way through his blood stream.

She decided to try for breaking some of the ice that she had caused to freeze between them. "He's a much better student than you ever were. He actually does his own work."

"I did my own work!" Oliver protested. "Most of the time."

They laughed, their eyes meeting over their drinks, and Lilly's breath caught somewhere between her rib cage and her throat. Wasn't it supposed to get easier with time? This whole breaking up thing? Wasn't she supposed to be okay by now? But here he was, looking almost exactly the same as he had at sixteen, and she was definitely not okay. If anything, she was contemplating murdering Joanie, because this was, somehow, Joanie's fault.

Except that she couldn't do that. Because she and Joanie were friends now, the best of friends. And Joanie was pregnant. So that would be a double murder. She'd get life in prison at the very least.

Taking a long draw from her glass, Lilly waited for Oliver to say something else, but he didn't. And they just sat there quietly until Joanie wedged herself back in between them, taking a sip of her own ginger ale.

"Can you believe that Oliver is one of the producers on an album for a kid named Cola?" Joanie asked as though she hadn't just stepped into an awkward silence. "Who the hell names their kid Cola? I'm definitely not naming my daughter something like that... What do you think of Whiskey?"

"It's a girl?" Lilly exclaimed, setting her glass down with a bang.

"Yeah. I broke, decided I wanted to find out. Can't tell Todd though. He wants to be surprised." She rolled her eyes. "Up until yesterday though, he was convinced I was having triplets, so, there you go."

"I'm still kind of stuck on you marrying Todd. I didn't think he was your type," Oliver muttered, though it was half to himself now. The women were concerned with more pressing matters.

"Whiskey?" Lilly asked. "Really?"

"What? I thought it was cute," Joanie countered. "You don't think it's cute?" Up until she had found out she was pregnant, she hadn't been too big on labeling things as "cute."

"You can't name your daughter after alcohol!" Lilly giggled.

"Lilly's right. Whiskey is definitely not the way to go," Oliver agreed before taking a bite out of his orange slice.

"Okay then," Joanie took another sip of ginger ale before she went on, "what would you two name your kids then, hmm?"

Neither of them said a word, and Lilly felt the blood drain from her face as she stared at the wooden top of the bar. Her glass was making a circle of condensation on the surface, and she watched the liquid slowly spread. She didn't think Joanie meant that the way it sounded. Not really. It was just the way she happened to phrase the question. Because the idea of the two of them having kids, together, it was-

"Well, I like Ophelia. You know, we Okens have a thing for the letter O."

"Oken, that's the one that went crazy. Not to mention, that little girl would so be made fun of ridiculously."

"Ridiculously made fun of," Lilly corrected. "Don't let your adverbs dangle."

"Thank you, Miss Truscott," Joanie quipped, "I'll be sure to study for the test next week."

Oliver was leaning forward on the bar now, and Lilly met his eyes with a small smile. It was easier to smile at him with Joanie seated between them. In high school, every time Joanie was between them, she wanted to vomit, but right now, it seemed a whole lot easier to handle.

"I've always like the name Margaret," Lilly admitted, her eyes still locked with Oliver's. He smiled while Joanie chuckled. "It's old fashioned, but I think Maggie, for short, is cute. Or Mags. Plus, it comes from an ancient Greek word that means Pearl... I think it's pretty." She shrugged.

"Yeah, okay." Joanie sighed, glancing back and forth between the two of them and hid a smirk. "Well, I've got to get home before Todd sends out a search party. Sometimes he forgets that I'm not due for a couple more months and he calls the hospitals to check and see if I've gone into labor. I'll see you guys next week."

Lilly waited until Joanie was out the door and Oliver had slid on to her emptied stool before she asked, "Next week?"

"Yeah. Remember, my brother's graduating next month? I'm here until then." He elbowed one of her arms gently, a familiar gesture that wasn't all that unwelcome.

And they spent another hour talking about their siblings, their work, Joanie's baby, anything that could look to the future instead of the past, avoiding the biggest elephant in the room of all.

And he showed up for meetings seventy-six through eighty. Lilly fully expected him to be gone after that, on to another producing project, but he wasn't. Instead, when she walked into the bar, struggling to pull her umbrella back in after a freak rain storm, Oliver was the one sitting on Joanie's stool, waiting.

Yes, meeting number eighty-one, the first one without Joanie, was the big one.

"Joanie says she's sorry that she can't make it, but Todd's mom came over for dinner and she can't get away." Oliver shook a few strands of hair out of his eyes and gave her his most apologetic smile.

"Oh. Okay." She expected to be nervous, maybe even a little awkward, but she was... relieved. Some time over the last month, the pressure had evaporated. "What'd you do this week?"

"Remembered why I loved high school." Oliver chuckled. "My brother has been talking nonstop about this party he's going to this weekend down at the beach... by The Shack." Lilly didn't say anything, just waited for him to continue, but he didn't keep going with the same line of thought. Instead, he told her, "And Joanie told me she's settled on a name. She told Todd he can name the baby if it's a boy, but she gets to if it's a girl."

"I always knew she cheated," Lilly joked. "What'd she pick?"

The smile stayed on Oliver's face as he answered, "Lilly."

"No." She shook her head. "Joanie doesn't like it when kids are named after flowers." She took a sip from her drink, throat tightening.

"She's not naming her after a flower. She's naming her after her godmother." He nudged her leg carefully with his knee.

"Pffft. I haven't agreed to that yet," Lilly informed him, not moving her leg away like she would have a month earlier.

"You will." And he was so sure about it, drinking his own whiskey sour, staring straight ahead, not even a trace of doubt on his face. There was a part of Lilly that wanted to smack him, but she didn't, just clucked her tongue in annoyance.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do." He was smug, swirling the ice in his glass around in circles. "Just like I know that one day, you're going to marry me."

Lilly sucked in a breath, the world momentarily turning on its side. "Oliver-"

"Nope. Don't even say a word. I was simply stating a fact." He turned so he was facing her and changed the subject. "You going to the baby shower this weekend?"

Meeting eighty-two resulted in Lilly agreeing to be godmother to her namesake, Oliver grinning on the other side of Joanie the whole time. Lilly rolled her eyes.

Meeting eighty-five added Joanie's husband to their little group, and they were forced to start sitting at a table. There were a lot of bad jokes and surfing anecdotes then.

Some weeks, Lilly felt like she had never grown up, that she was still stuck in perpetual high school. Others, she couldn't believe that so much had changed. But, by the one hundredth whiskey sour Wednesday, she was forced let the thought bubble to the front of her brain that Oliver had indeed been stating a fact. She wasn't about to admit it to him yet, but if he asked again, she knew she'd say yes.

* * *

**A/N: I know I said I would take suggestions, but this idea of having Joanie and Lilly become closer as adults jumped into my head, so I went with it. Besides, up until now there were no suggestions. I will take ones for X though. That's going to be a tough one. And for that matter, Y and Z. Those are probably going to be the hardest letters for me. Comments and criticisms are more than welcome! Feel free to tell me how much you hate me for breaking them up for so long or for having Miley basically disappear. I'm all ears.**


	24. X is for XMen

X is for X-Men.

"I can't believe you," Lilly snapped. "Weaseling your way into a free concert just because Miley's performing too." She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning haughtily against one wall of the elevator.

"Oh, like you didn't weasel your way in too," Oliver snapped back, pushing the button on the lighted panel of the wall.

"I'm the best friend. I get the colorful wigs and the funky clothes, and I always get to stand back stage to help her out with wardrobe malfunctions. That's my job as t_he best friend_." Lilly wasn't going to admit it, but she was kind of relieved that she didn't have to wear the colorful wig or the funky clothes to this particular event since she and Oliver had been been relegated to regular concert goers.

"Oh, please." He crossed his arms as well. "I would do that... if I was a girl." He then commenced watching the buttons as they lit up one by one.

Rolling her eyes, Lilly gave a small sigh. She still wasn't used to Oliver attending the Hannah Montana events with her. It was weird. And every single time they wound up arguing over who got to sit closest to the stage, who got to talk up which celebrities, and who got to stand close enough to Miley that their picture ended up in the paper. The arguing wasn't really anything new, but the having to put up with him while in her Lola costume was. And after only two months of his Mike Stanley get-up, he was already grating on her last nerves.

She thought that this charity event, hosted by Hannah Montana's record label would be different. Miley had scored them front row seats; she claimed because it was going to be so busy backstage that she didn't want them getting trampled, but Lilly had a feeling it was because she wanted them out of the way, and not embarrassing her in front of the bigger names on the tickets. Not that Miley would have told that to them straight out or anything. Lilly was just glad she didn't have to wear one of her itchy wigs, even if Oliver had been annoying her all afternoon.

While she waited to reach their floor, the lights flickered ominously. It was the kind of flicker that always preceded screaming and chase sequences in horror movies. Except that Lilly wasn't in a horror movie. She was in an elevator. And the flickering lights did not instill her with confidence in the contraption when it began to shudder.

And then came to a complete stop somewhere between floors fourteen and fifteen of the hotel.

"What'd you do?" she asked Oliver, though she knew perfectly well he hadn't moved since crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, just like her.

"Nothing..." Oliver glanced at the buttons, then looked straight up at the flickering bulbs above them. Just as he moved to get a better look, the lights went completely out. "What happened?" he yelped.

Lilly let out a high pitched "eep" before taking a deep breath and attempting to search through her purse for her phone. Her purse, and everything in it, clattered to the floor though when Oliver grabbed on to her arm in fear. Jumping about a foot in the air, she caught herself just before she let out a shrill scream. "Why did you do that? I was trying to find my phone so we could see!" She smacked him for good measure.

"I'm sorry." Oliver didn't let go of her arm, even though he had winced away from her when she hit him. "It just got so dark..."

"Oliver. Are you scared of the dark?"

"Pfft. Don't be ridiculous. I was just surprised."

But he let out a sigh of relief as a low humming began and the emergency lights kicked on. Tiny blue bulbs that lined the floor and the edge of the ceiling bathed them in a slight glow. It was like being surrounded by miniature bug zappers or something. Unsettling.

Shaking him off, Lilly crossed the elevator and jabbed a finger at the emergency call button. A sharp clanging sound came out in a few quick bursts before it quit working.

"Do you think that means someone's coming for us?" she asked Oliver hopefully, momentarily forgetting her annoyance.

He shrugged, then glanced around at the walls. With a groan, he knocked on the doors, as though he expected someone to open them from the other side and welcome him into the hallway. He slowly, but surely, began to pound harder on the metal surfaces with his fist. When no one answered, he kicked them, then spent a good minute hopping around on the foot that hadn't been slammed into the metal.

Lilly watched him, half in amusement, half in frustration, then slid along the wall to sit on the floor. When he was done making exclamations of pain and anger, he followed her example and slid to the floor next to her.

"What should we do?" he questioned, his voice hushed.

"Do you have your phone? You can call for help." Her tone was dull now. The amusement of watching Oliver hop around on one foot had worn off as soon as he had sat down with that defeated look on his face. She didn't even want to get up, go back to where she had been standing, and retrieve her bag from the floor to get her phone. It all seemed like way too much effort.

Reaching into his back pocket Oliver pulled out his phone, only to chuck it across the floor in disgust. "No bars," he said by way of explaination.

So Lilly reached over and pushed the emergency call button again. And again, that clanging sound rang out a few times before it cut off. "Well," she reasoned, "maybe the power's out. Once it comes back on, the elevator'll start moving again. It'll be fine."

"Right."

And so they waited. And waited. For an entire five minutes in almost total silence. But Lilly and Oliver had never done particularly well with silence. Lilly, especially, hated it when there was no noise. She had been known to fill silences with nervous chatter. And she did that now, largely to distract herself from the fact that she was currently stuck in an elevator.

"So... what do you want to get from room service when we get back?" was what she used to fill in the empty space.

"Hmm... Maybe a nice sundae... or a strawberry milkshake."

Lilly's stomach growled in response to his answer, so she decided food was not the best track to take. "Sounds good."

There was another few minutes of silence while Lilly attempted to think of a new topic of conversation, but Oliver beat her to it.

"You know, if I had Batman's utility belt, I bet I could have thrown one of those hooks through the roof and pulled us out." He nodded his head, eyes on the ceiling while he spoke.

"Ugh. You know, the ceiling is lined with lights, right? You'd get glass everywhere, and we'd probably get all sliced up."

"So, I'd use something to pry open the door. Dude's got everything in that utility belt."

"You and Batman." She shook her head. "How come it's never Superman or Spiderman or Wonder Woman or anyone else?"

"Superman is an alien. He was born with his powers. Not like the Bat who developed all his stuff all on his own." Lilly stifled her laugh at the mention of 'The Bat' and let Oliver continue. "And Spiderman is cool and all, but you know, spiders kind of freak me out." He shrugged his shoulders. "And Lils, no offense, but why would I want to be Wonder Woman? I'm not a chick." He raised one eyebrow comically, elbows braced on his knees so he could lean over and look Lilly in the eye.

A chick?" She poked him in the chest until he amended his statement to include the word girl, which was slightly better. "She's awesome. She has the lasso of truth, and she's from an island and she's a princess." She picked at one of the blue lights on the string along the floor between them.

"I thought you didn't like princesses."

"I don't... when they wear poofy dresses and expect to be saved by guys on white horses all the time. But Wonder Woman is cooler than that." She tentatively touched the bulb of the light and was surprised that it wasn't even a little hot. Not like normal light bulbs. It must have been one of those fancy ones.

"Yeah, but she doesn't have all of the cool gadgets that Batman has."

Lilly rolled her eyes. He was always so stubborn. "It'd be more useful if you could walk through the wall to get to the other side, or if you had super strength and could punch your way through the doors."

"Punch my way through the doors?" Oliver echoed. "What, like Colossus? Then, we'd probably have to pay the hotel for damages."

He made a good point about having to pay the hotel if someone punched the doors open, though he hadn't been so concerned with that when he talked about going through the ceiling, but that wasn't the part of the conversation that stuck with her. "Who is Colossus?" Lilly asked, bewildered.

"You know, big Russian dude in the X-Men? Looks like a giant refrigerator when he goes all metal?" Oliver waited for Lilly's a-ha moment, but she just shook her head again. "Not ringing any bells, really? His girlfriend's the one who could walk through walls?"

Lilly giggled, stretching her legs out in front of her. "Someone can actually walk through walls? I was kind of kidding about that." She elbowed him in the side, glad to find something that would probably occupy their time until someone opened the elevator doors or the power came back on.

And she was right. Because Oliver gave her a run down on the history of the X-Men, which only served to confuse her every time he began talking about a new character, so she kept asking him questions, trying to keep them both distracted from the fact that they were stuck in an elevator, and that, at some point, one of them was probably going to have to pee.

"Let me get this straight," she interrupted him at one point. "They were best friends, right?" He nodded his head, so she added, "but, now they're enemies."

"Well, 'now' is kind of relative."

"Relative?" she echoed with a smile. Only the depths or dorkdom could get Oliver to sound half way intelligent.

"Yeah. I mean, there are all these... alternate universes... when it comes to different story lines. So, saying 'now' they're enemies, I don't know. I mean, there are multiple nows. They're enemies in one of them, but friends in another one, maybe even partners in another one, or one of them's dead-"

"But, isn't that the way it always happens?" she interrupted again. "I mean, in super hero stories. They start out as best friends, but one of them is more selfish than the other, and when the other one tries to do the right thing, the selfish one vows revenge, and they become enemies until the end of the series when the nice guy saves the day and the bad guy is redeemed."

"Well... not always..." Oliver thought about it for a second. "Okay, well maybe it happens a lot of the time, but the X-Men are different."

"Oh, are they better than Batman?" She grinned at him, already knowing his answer.

"That's blasphemy! I never said better. I said different." He cracked his knuckles as though threatening her, and narrowed his eyes, but gave up the intimidating look with a smile. "It's just... there are so many of them, and some of them leave, and then you get new characters. And there's the whole school. They're not a family, but they're pretty close, you know? Even when one of them goes bad, they try to save them first. And there's always someone to get the other person's back in a fight."

"Well, Batman has Robin... and Batgirl," Lilly offered, flicking her hair over her shoulder in slight annoyance. She didn't particularly care for Batgirl. If she had to choose, she'd want to be Robin. At least he came from a family of acrobats. That was kind of cool.

"Yeah, but they're his sidekicks. I don't really think of any of the X-Men as sidekicks." Oliver shook his head to clear it, having lost his train of thought with Lilly's tangent. "Where was I before you interrupted me? Oh, right, the Legacy Virus."

"Oliver, maybe I'll just rent the movies."

"The movies? Lils, the movies are nothing like the comic books. If you want the real story, you've got to go to the source." There was a manic expression on his face that she didn't like the look of.

"You want me to catch up on thirty years of comic books instead of watching a couple of movies? Are you crazy?" She couldn't help it if her voice rose on the question. The prospect of having to do that much reading just to understand what Oliver was talking about did not make her happy.

"Crazy? It's not crazy to want to get the better story! And it's forty years."

"Forty! You are insane."

"I'm not insane!"

"Oliver, that's like, 800 comic books or something!"

And they were still yelling at one another when a repair man opened the elevator doors a little while later.

"Guess you two didn't see the out of order sign, huh?" He asked, oblivious to the ongoing argument.

"An out of order sign," Lilly snapped at Oliver, retrieving her purse from the floor as she stood. "Can't you read?"

"Says the girl who would rather see the movie!" He shot back.

"Good lord. Maybe we should leave them in there for a while." It was Mr. Stewart, standing behind the repair man, who spoke quietly to Miley. It had been his suggestion that her two friends may have disappeared into the only elevator in the entire hotel that wasn't working when she realized she hadn't seen them for a couple of hours.

"No way, daddy. If we leave them alone, it'll just get worse," she whispered, before stepping forward, grabbing Lilly's arm, and asking what movie it was that Oliver said she wanted to see.

"The ones about the X-Men. I don't think I've seen any of them. Have you?"

"Oh, yeah. I went to the premier for the new one. I think you'd like it. One of the girls can walk through walls. How cool is that?" The girls walked arm in arm down the hallway.

"Definitely the super power I'd want to have," Lilly admitted, shooting a glare over her shoulder.

"No appreciation for the classics," Oliver muttered to himself, following them.

* * *

**A/N: This one might not be up to my usual standards. I apologize. I wanted to do something with Lilly and Oliver arguing like they used to, and this idea was fun, but I just couldn't get into writing it. I think my brain just wants to go on vacation. But Y will, hopefully, be better. Thanks to Offical-Anime-Freak for the suggestion for X, and TheRightWrongs who suggested X-Men way back when she had a different user name. Ha. **


	25. Y is for yellow brick roads

**A/N: So, this chapter is concerned with the series finale and the decision Lilly makes. I have to admit, Y was a very difficult letter for some reason. I just had no ideas at first. Thanks to anyone who suggested yellow, because I used that as a starting point. I can't remember who it was, but I think it was more than one of you. And yes, this chapter does make reference to The Wizard of Oz. Only one more left after this. Exciting! **

* * *

Y is for yellow brick roads.

"_Oh, hey, look. Those girls are going to Stanford. That's gonna be you and Miley next year. Unless she, you know, books a huge blockbuster movie or something."_

As she said goodbye to Oliver in the airport, Lilly couldn't help but hear the ring of truth in his words. If she went to Paris with Miley now, who knew if she would ever even get the chance to go to the college of her dreams? And Stanford had been her dream forever. Well... as long as she had been thinking about the concept of college anyway.

When she was four, she wanted to be a super hero until she found out that was impossible. And when she was seven she wanted to be a high fashion model until she got sick of all the girly dresses. And when she was ten she wanted to be a professional surfer until she realized just how much work that was. When she was twelve she wanted to be Orlando Bloom's date to Hollywood parties until he took out a restraining order. Her dreams tended to change with the wind. Until she was fourteen.

When she was fourteen years old, just after she started high school, her father sent her a box full of brochures for colleges all over the country. The note enclosed read: _No pressure. I'm sure you get enough of that from Mom. I just want you to make informed decisions. It's never to early to be informed. _She may have rolled her eyes and slid the box under her bed without looking at anything else, but just a few short weeks later when she got the flu, and she was propped up in bed watching plenty of feel-good musicals and drinking lots of orange juice, she remembered the box.

She plopped onto the floor, pulling the cardboard out from under her bed and then sat still from the effort of all that movement, catching her breath, willing herself not to vomit again, her eyes flicking from the box to the screen on her laptop. Audrey Hepburn was practicing her vowel sounds in _My Fair Lady. _With a quiet cough and a sigh of boredom, Lilly picked up the box, placed it on her bed next to her laptop, and jumped back up, preparing to dig in once the wave of nausea passed.

_My Fair Lady _saw her discarding brochures for the University of Tennessee and Notre Dame. Too far from the water. Well, the water she was used to anyway. Lakes didn't really count for her. And she separated all of the New England Ivy Leagues out, tossing them into a pile that she wasn't really planning on looking through. Harvard, Yale, Brown? Really? Her father had that much faith in her?

_Guys and Dolls _had her examining all of the schools in New York. Interesting programs at Columbia and NYU. But the test score requirements were a little intimidating. And as much as she liked to think of herself as a city girl, New York felt like it would box her in, hold her down, and never let her go. She wanted some freedom. She wanted at least the semblance of an open sky, not concrete jungles and packed-like-sardines apartments.

All of the schools landlocked in the middle of the country were no-gos. She didn't even have to look through the brochures when she saw that the schools rested in places like Colorado or Wyoming or Minnesota. There was no salt water, no waves, no beach time between classes. She wouldn't be able to survive without knowing that there was a beach near by. It just couldn't be done. What would she do with her surfboard? Leave it with her mom? Fat chance. Her mom had never approved of surfing. She'd probably sell the board first chance she got.

She ruled out the southern schools while watching _Oklahoma. _She wouldn't admit that she got lost in "People Will Say" and had to start her examination of the University of Georgia and Tulane all over again. While she was sure Miley would love a southern school, Lilly wasn't willing to settle down in the land of sausage gravy or fried catfish. Not to mention she would have to practically learn a new language to fit in with locals. Not that she didn't like new languages. There was just only so much "ya'll" she could take, and she got her fill from the Stewart family.

Lilly tossed all the schools in Florida into the garbage pile between DVDs. It wasn't that she didn't like the Sunshine State. It was just that, if she was there, she would have to visit the two remaining grandparents she had on a regular basis. And they weren't fun grandparents like Miley's or Oliver's. They were the kind that kept butterscotch candy in a glass bowl on the table, smelled like roast beef, and constantly cooked cabbage and complained about kids today. And they always looked at her as though she was something sour they were going to have to swallow. It creeped her out.

By the time she made it to the last musical in her stack, _The Wizard of Oz, _she was down to only the west coast schools. And Hawaii. But, she tossed Hawaii into the no pile while Dorothy lamented about a land over the rainbow. Hawaii might have amazing surfing, but it felt so isolated, so far away. A quick perusal of the University of California with its numerous campuses and research opportunities left her dizzy. Too many options. She tossed them aside as well. The same decision was made for California State. At the rate she was going, there wouldn't be any schools left to pick from in the entire country.

Dorothy's house spun through the air as the tornado sped her and Toto off to Oz. As the pile of discards had grown, Lilly was beginning to know exactly how she must have felt. Choice after choice, piece after piece of possible futures were speeding through her brain. There was a small booklet that caught Lilly's eye, largely because it had the word Laguna on it, but it turned out to be for a very small, very private, art school. She was no artist, so that got lumped in with the rest, and the booklet hit the pile like Dorothy's house touching down in Munchkinland.

Leaning back on her pillow, Lilly watched as Judy Garland, suddenly in Technicolor in her gingham dress and pigtails, terrified, was counseled by Glinda and sung to by the Lollipop Guild. She'd always liked the Lollipop Guild. They were adorable. And she let herself get lost in the movie for a few minutes, imagining what it would be like to be whisked away to somewhere as crazy as Oz, where the good witches flew through the sky in bubbles, and scarecrows came to life but wished for brains, where ruby slippers could lead you to your heart's desire.

Ruby slippers were something else she wanted as a kid. She had begged and begged her mother for magic ruby slippers for months. But her mother said she couldn't have magic shoes. "Lilly," Heather Truscott had reasoned with her, "if you had magic slippers, you'd have the easy way out. Even Dorothy had to find her way on the yellow brick road. Sometimes, it's about the journey you take, not where you end up at the end."

It was as she remembered that line, and Dorothy started on her walk, the yellow bricks spilling out from a tight spiral to a wide path, that Lilly glanced down at the handful of brochures left in front of her. On the very top, there was one that featured a rolling lawn, green trees, a red roofed building, and smiling faces. She idly flipped through the pages that promised small class sizes, great research facilities, Nobel Prize winning professors, and a "need blind" admissions policy. She kept flicking through, but she got distracted when the Scarecrow wished for a brain.

And though she went through the remainder of the brochures during the rest of the movie, it was that one pamphlet that she kept going back to. The dark red lettering, the promise that everyone who got in could go to the school without worrying about finances, they stood out to her. While Dorothy and friends skipped down their yellow brick pathway to the Emerald City, Lilly checked the admissions requirements.

She'd have to up her game at school. Lilly had never been dumb, but she had never been the best student either. She'd have to work a little bit harder if she wanted to get in. Credits rolling, she had pinned that brochure to her bulletin board and resolved that she was going to get there, no matter how many of her own yellow brick roads she had to travel to do it. Something about the school just clicked. Stanford was perfect.

And all of that raced through her head in th blink of an eye as Oliver said his goodbye to her four years later in an airport. She was wearing a cute dress and a beret. She'd been practicing her French with Miley. She was all packed for Paris. Tickets were booked. They had made all these plans. She had been able to kiss her boyfriend before leaving. She was going to be Miley's sidekick in the City of Love. But, if she went away with Miley to France, was she just slipping on a pair of ruby slippers and hoping that clicking her heels together would grant her wish?

She would just be putting off college for a little while though. Just this semester. Or this year. Long enough for Miley to film this movie. Long enough...

But there would always be other opportunities for Miley. Did Lilly really want to go to Paris now? Did she want to keep playing the sidekick? Or did she want to let Miley hold on to the ruby slippers while she followed the yellow brick road all the way to Stanford? She stared at the poster of the Eiffel Tower in front of her while she thought, and when she turned around to face Miley, her best friend knew exactly what was coming.

"You're not going to Paris, are you?"

Lilly felt the tears she had been trying to hold back come to the surface. "I can't," she sniffled. "Miley, Paris and Spielberg and Cruise, it's all incredible, and it's like a dream come true," she told her as she walked towards her.

"Then what's the problem," Miley asked, clearly confused as to why Lilly was suddenly so upset.

"The problem is, it's your dream. I mean, my dream is college. It's always been college." There were a few moments where she struggled to make Miley understand. She knew this would be hard, but it was necessary. And in the end, Miley did understand. She didn't get angry. She didn't make a scene. It was nothing like the Miley that Lilly had first become friends with at 11. Miley hugged her, told her she'd miss her, and they went their separate ways.

Lilly followed her yellow brick road into a dorm room meant for two. She followed it through the first week of freshman classes. And she followed it to the door where her new roommate was knocking. Her new roommate, who turned out to be a popstar/actress who had quit her movie job in Paris to come back to California and go to college.

Lilly had made a lot of sacrifices over the years in order to be Miley's friend, and she didn't regret them, but she had never been more grateful to Miley for sacrificing what could have been the perfect ruby slipper for her career in order to follow the yellow brick road for a while with her. It was something she would never forget.


	26. Z is for zippers

Z is for zippers.

A zipper. It was such an inconsequential object, really. This tiny thing that was part of everyday life. Something no one really looked at twice. It was just there. You worried about it when you couldn't reach it on the back of a dress and had to ask for help. Or when the fabric lining the inside of your purse got stuck in it, ruining a perfectly good bag. Or when the one on the smallest pocket of your back pack, the place where you stuffed your extra money and your emergency tampons, broke for no reason at all, and you watched as all of your smallest possessions spilled on to the floor of a high school locker room.

Zippers. They just existed. And Lilly Truscott never really thought twice about them as a kid. She never wondered who took the time to think up how to make those metal teeth lock together and stay together. (Some scholars might debate the true origins, but Gideon Sunback in 1913 is credited with the modern zip.) She never thought about what life was like before zippers. (There was a large number of buttons and ties and hook-and-eye closures.) And likely, she never would worry about those things. Maybe she would absentmindedly play with the zipper that was used to close the pocket on her pair of cargo pants when she was twelve, but she didn't actively think about it.

In her old age though, if she would have taken a few minutes to reflect, she may have found there were several very important moments in her life that happened to surround the use of a zipper.

-o-

There were a few last moments.

_The last time her parents were in the same bedroom at the same time._

Well, it was the last time as far as she knew anyway. She preferred not to think about her parents and bedrooms and the activities that could occur there. It was just odd.

Lilly and her little brother Mark sat on her parent's bed, her mother's bed now, both fidgeting, trying to find something to say. Of course, since her brother was only seven, there wasn't really anything all that interesting for him to say. He just kept asking when he could come visit their dad at the new apartment. Lilly eventually had to send him downstairs, asking if he could get her a glass of water.

Her mom watched, moving every so often to toss something small into one of the cheap suitcases sitting on the floor in front of Lilly. Lilly said nothing, just watched her dad pull one piece of clothing after another from his side of the walk-in closet, fold it carefully, and put it in one of the bags. If it was her, she would probably have just grabbed handfuls of cloth and tossed it all into the bags without even thinking about it. But not her dad. No. He was making sure everything was folded precisely, taking his sweet time getting all of his stuff out of the closet.

Every so often, her mother would give a little sigh before flitting around the room, finding something else that she decided she could part with, and tossing it into one of the bags or cases. As a result, the cheap suitcases that had been decided as belonging to her soon to be ex-husband were filling up much too quickly.

And when it came time to zip up the largest of the suitcases, Mr. Truscott struggled with the zip tab, but he just couldn't get it to move. Mrs. Truscott snapped that it was too full, that he didn't need to take everything in one go, and she tried to squeeze the sides together for him, but he still couldn't get the zipper to make the trek from one end of the case to the other. She gave another one of those sighs, and the two of them looked at one another as though to say, "what are we even doing here?" And Lilly wondered if the looks were talking about more than just trying to zip up the case.

So when Mark came back in the room, Lilly jumped down from the bed, landing on the case, pulling her brother into her lap, their weight squeezing the sides together, and for just a moment, her parents chuckled, working together to zip up the case, and it was just like it used to be. Her mother was smiling, her dad's arm was bumping into hers, and they could have been planning for a family vacation. But they weren't. And when her father loaded up his belongings in the car, nobody went with him.

It was the last time she ever had a perfect family moment. But then, she thought perfect might be a little overrated anyway.

_The last time someone called her Lola._

Lola Luftnagle had been created on a whim. It had been one of the first names to pop into her overly imaginative brain when someone asked who the girl with the cotton candy hair getting into Hannah Montana's limo was.

Lola was everything Lilly wasn't. She was a jet setter. She had wealthy parents. She wore the most outlandish clothes. She vacationed in Europe. She lived in hotels. Every time Lilly attended a Hollywood event in her clever disguise, Lola's story became more and more detailed. She had an entirely fictitious existence created in her head. And a large part of Lilly loved it.

She loved cavorting with celebrities, getting her picture in the paper, hanging out backstage at events, and thinking up crazy outfits to wear. Lola got to be even louder than Lilly, both in volume and in presence. Lola could stand in a crowd and be noticed. People tended to look right by Lilly. And she loved the five years that she got to dress up and play pretend with her best friend.

But when Miley made the decision to take off her blond Hannah wig on television and share her secret with the world, there was a part of Lilly, maybe an even larger part than the one that had so much fun dreaming this other girl into existence, that was relieved for the time of pretending to come to an end. That night, after numerous photographs of her were taken, after lots of "no comments" from Mr. Stewart to the press, after she and Miley staggered into their shared bedroom, exhausted, she took off her final Lola outfit for the last time.

It was while she was pulling down the zipper on her chic new ankle boots that Miley said it.

"Hey, Lola?" she whispered across the room, holding her blond wig in her hands. "We had some good times, right?"

"Some of the best," Lilly agreed with a smile. "But you were right. It's time to be Miley and Lilly now."

And it was that moment, while she took off her shoes, that Lilly knew what it felt like to leave a piece of your childhood behind and not be able to get it back.

_Her last time wearing a formal dress._

The older she got, Lilly wasn't one of those women he became obsessed with diamond earrings and strings of pearls. She wasn't someone buying pastel pantsuits at the mall in an effort to appear put together like the other women who were long past the age of retirement. She wasn't attending charity functions on yachts or ballet galas. She wasn't one of those women who was suddenly proper or society conscious.

No, Lilly was the kind of woman who, once she had retired, once all of her kids and grandkids were no longer living under her roof, once her husband was sick, she was the kind of woman who shuffled around her house in lounge pants and slippers. Lilly was the kind of woman who stayed casual and comfortable. She had plenty of dressing up, layers of makeup, and fancy shoes when she was a kid. Now, she had reached an age where she didn't have to work so hard to impress. _She had lived. _And she didn't need to prove anything to anybody.

Except for this one time.

Because this one time she wanted to look her absolute best. Her fingers might have been a little swollen, so she might not have been able to slip her wedding ring on her finger anymore, but she did put it on a chain and slip it over her head. Her hair might not have been golden anymore, but she could still wear it long and in loose waves. And she couldn't remember the last time she wore makeup, but she pinched her cheeks to make them rosy and she slid some lipstick across her mouth for just that extra hint of color. She even had the time to put her diamond studs in her ears.

It was the dress that gave her the most trouble though. It was a simple black dress, modest by a younger person's standards, but it made her feel pretty, and she was bound and determined she was going to wear it. Her fingers just refused to cooperate; they couldn't grasp the zipper after so much intricate work with her hair and her jewelry. And she found herself sitting on the edge of her bathtub, near tears, because she didn't know what to do.

It was her granddaughter Charlotte who came to her rescue, knocking on the door to check on her. It was Charlotte who reached behind her and pulled the zipper in place, smoothing out the wrinkles of the dress. Charlotte, in her own modest black dress, but with bright blue streaks in her blond hair and big blue eyes to match, put her arm around her grandmother and said in a perfectly serious voice, "I think Grandpa would have thought it was cool if you went to the service in fishnets and a miniskirt."

Lilly laughed, and she made Charlotte stay with her through the entire memorial service. It was the last time she would dress to impress, but it was the only time she said goodbye to her late husband.

-o-

Of course, there were plenty of firsts as well.

_Her first time fighting with her first best friend._

It would have been odd if Lilly had multitudes of best friends before starting preschool. And really, she hadn't had all that much interaction with kids her own age before hand. She was a little scared that no one would like her, but she still tried her very best to make friends. And she found one, bonding over a box of sixty-four crayons, that she thought would stick by her. And he did. For months, he was her partner in games of catch, he sat by her in the story circle, and he let her use his very favorite crayons. She even let him hold her hand once.

Of course, she almost ruined it all with the help of a sticky zipper.

It was a winter day when it happened. The teacher asked Oliver if Lilly could borrow his extra sweatshirt, packed securely in his bag by his father, because Lilly didn't have one, and it was chilly out on the playground. Oliver, always eager to please, even at the tender age of just-turned-five, agreed. But after swinging across monkey bars, jumping rope, and running around like crazy kids who didn't know the rules to tag, Lilly was a little hot under the collar.

She couldn't get the sweatshirt off. Having not mastered the delicate art of unzipping a zip-up sweatshirt, Lilly frantically pulled at the tab to no avail. Certain that the thick garment was now possessed by some sort of invisible monster and intent on choking her, the tiny girl put on a burst of strength and yanked the tab as hard as she could. Unfortunately, the tab took the entire zippered lining with it, and the sweatshirt was pretty much ruined.

Oliver refused to speak to her for the rest of the day, but by the next day at lunch time, when she traded him her chocolate pudding for his fruit cup, all was forgiven. It was the first time someone outside of her family had been mad at her, but forgiven her. And Lilly learned just what it meant to be a friend.

_Her first time attending a wedding._

Yes, at fifteen years old, Lilly had never actually been to a wedding ceremony before. She had gone to receptions and parties for friends of parents, and even a couple of family members that she barely knew. But she was never made to actually attend a ceremony. Maybe her parents thought she wouldn't be able to sit still. Maybe there was a no kids policy at some of the locations. She had never really questioned it. It wasn't like she was going to weddings for people she knew very well.

But at fifteen, her best friend, who had recently broken up with his girlfriend, needed a date to his cousin's wedding. He'd already marked that pesky little plus one box when he sent back his invitation, complete with a request for the vegetarian meal at the reception. So, just a few days before, Oliver called her up, and in his most casual voice, asked if she wanted to hang out with him at a wedding on Saturday. At first, she wanted to say no. Even at fifteen, you didn't go to a wedding with someone who was _just a friend. _Weddings were a big deal in the dating world. If you invited someone to a wedding, you were supposed to be serious about introducing them to the family.

And she said no. But he begged, pleaded, offered to buy her tickets to the concert of her choice, promised he wouldn't ask for help on his Spanish homework for at least a month, and she finally caved. She agreed to show up at his house Saturday morning, makeup done, dress in a garment bag, to take a four hour ride with his family to the wedding location. And even though she thought about backing out at the last minute, she didn't. She showed up, dress and heels in hand, and climbed into the backseat of the car for what felt like endless hours of twenty questions with Oliver and his brother. She was relieved to find that it all felt very normal.

Until she had to get dressed.

Because she had informed Oliver's mother that all she had to do was slip her dress on, so she had been left to her own devices in the bathroom attached to the guest room at the relative's house, and now that she had the dress on, she couldn't reach the zipper. It was smack in the middle of the back of the dress, and though she had managed to twist herself into an awkward position and move the zipper up a few inches, no matter how she moved her arms, her finger tips always just missed it. She was forced to poke her head out of the door and ask for help. But Oliver was the one standing outside waiting for her, not his mother.

Taking a breath, she pulled her hair to one side, and gestured helplessly to her back, turning around so Oliver could see what she meant. He walked up behind her slowly, too slowly for her liking. And she found herself wondering if he was checking out the straps of her bra or her tan lines or something. But he didn't say anything, didn't make a single joke, just pulled the zipper up just as slowly as he had walked over to her. And she could feel it when the knuckles of his hand grazed her skin. And she could feel his breath on her neck. And it was suddenly very warm in the guest room. She wasn't entirely sure that coming to this wedding had been a good idea.

He cleared his throat when he was done, told her she looked great, and that he would meet her downstairs. His face was pink and he walked away as quickly as he could, and they never mentioned it again. But it was one of those moments that she would bring up and replay over and over in her mind for months.

_Her first... time._

Lilly and Oliver had been dating for an entire 18 days, barely over two weeks, when it happened. His parents were out for the night and his brother was at a friend's house. They were supposed to simply have a clandestine dinner meeting that no one else would know about since they were still in the early stages of their coupling, still keeping everything a secret. Dinner may have wound up forgotten in the kitchen, quickly cooling down while the two teens were quickly heating up in the living room.

It wasn't intentional. It really wasn't. They somehow wound up in Oliver's bedroom, and it took Lilly a few moments to figure out where they were once she was on his bed and not on the couch downstairs, hair fanned out behind her, fingers tugging on his belt buckle. There was a part of her that was thinking it was better to wait, that sixteen-year-olds made a lot of stupid mistakes due to hormones let loose. But there was another part of her that reasoned that what she had always thought she'd be waiting for was Oliver, so shouldn't the wait be over? That was the part that won out while his finger tips skimmed her ribs and she pulled her tank top over her head.

And it wasn't glamorous or drawn out the way things were in the movies. It was quick and it was messy, and even a little awkward, but she wouldn't want to take it back for anything. Her hair was in knots, her eyeliner was smeared, and there were lines from her fingernails down one of Oliver's arms, but nothing was damaged beyond repair. He kissed her while reaching for his jeans to put them back on, but after pulling them up, found he couldn't zip them.

Just like in preschool right before their first fight, an impatient Lilly had yanked the zipper and its lining clear of the fabric to which it was attached. Oliver was completely bewildered, not entirely sure what happened, while Lilly dissolved into a fit of giggles under his blanket. Once he changed into new clothes, he promised to be better next time if she promised to not destroy any of his clothes.

He kept up his end of the bargain. She did not.

-o-

Yes, zippers had been a large part of Lilly's life, even if she hadn't taken any particular interest in them. They had accompanied her through firsts and lasts and everything in between, but as many other things that are part of everyday life do, they went unnoticed. They did their job, closing the gap in fabrics, until they couldn't anymore.

* * *

**A/N: So, last chapter. There will be no more of Lilly, Alphabetically. It's been fun, but it took me so much longer than I thought it would to get through the alphabet. Thank you to all of you whom have actually gone through and read this whole thing. It's basically 26 one shots that run the gamut from funny to sad to romance to just general fic, so I'm glad so many people have enjoyed it. I am curious, now that it's all done with, if any of you feel like sharing, which letters have been your favorites? I will tell you that mine are A, L, and W. All for different reasons. But I'd love to find out all of your opinions. (I'd also love to know which ones you liked least. It'd be interesting to find out.)**

**And , now that I've finished this, I am going to be taking some time off from the world of Hannah Montana for a while, as I've said to some of you who have reviewed the last few chapters. I hope that at least a few of you will still read some of my coming stories, even if they're for other fandoms that you aren't familiar with. You know I always appreciate the feedback.**


End file.
